


Between Espresso and Roses

by Ravensmores



Series: Tumblr Prompts [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alive Vicchan, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Oblivious Katsuki Yuuri, POV Alternating, Ridiculously oversized bouquets, Romantic Comedy, Smitten Victor Nikiforov, adorable latte art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-06-29 18:40:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 31,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15735165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravensmores/pseuds/Ravensmores
Summary: Phichit carefully adjusts the roses in the centre of the window before stepping back to admire his handiwork. “Yuuri, a joke would be sending you a box of glitter or a wasps nest, not 30 bouquets.” He turns around, his expression softer, “Is it really so hard to believe that someone might just like you but is too nervous to say?”“Honestly… yes.” Yuuri knew he wasn’t any kind of intimidating presence, definitely not attractive enough to stun anyone into silence.In which Yuuri is clueless, Victor is vigilant and Phichit just wants everyone to be happy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allonsy221b](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsy221b/gifts).



> A coffee shop and florist yuri on ice au because @allonsy221b put the idea in my head and I just had to write it 
> 
> Just another drabble from my tumblr but I’m posting it here because... why not? :P

“Delivery for Katsuki Yuuri!”

Yuuri catches his eye roll in the reflection of the coffee machine he’s currently wiping down as Phichit bursts through the door with yet another flowery explosion clasped in his hands.

“You don’t have to do that every time,” he calls behind him, blissfully glad that the shop is closed so he can avoid the customers getting such a gaudy eyeful.

Again.

“Given how elaborate these bouquets are getting, I think a certain level of showmanship is required here.” Phichit smiles, turning over the frankly alarming number of pastel blue and pink roses spilling out of his hands. “At least I managed to intercept the delivery guy this this time.”

Yuuri sighs. Everytime he thought these flower deliveries couldn’t get any more ridiculous he was proven wrong day after day. “Thanks for that, he spends so much time here I think he’s starting to expect a free drink.” He walks forward to better examine the latest forest of colour, the annoyance brewing under his skin over the last few days heating up a little more “Just put them with the rest.”

“I think we’re running out of room” Phichit chuckles as Yuuri turns back to finish shutting up shop. “You know call me crazy, but I think someone might, _might_ have a crush on you.” He places the latest gaudy offering into the forest of bouquets currently turning the front window of the Eros coffee shop into a botanical garden. “Still no clue who they’re from?”

Yuuri sighs, reaching down to empty the cash register. “Nope. Still no card.”

It had started a month ago with a delivery of a single blue rose to Yuuri in the middle of his shift. At first he was sure it was some kind of mistake, no idea why anyone would send something like that to a no-name barista like himself, but it didn’t stop there. It was two the next day, then an assortment of daises, then lilies, then a bright mess of flowers he’d never even heard of, each with at least one of those blue roses blooming at the centre. While at first he felt a new kind of excitement brewing like warm coffee in his stomach at the thought of someone actually having a crush on him, it eventually soured into prolonged confusion and then an itching annoyance with the lack of a clear sender… and space to put all these displays.

It had turned into kind of a spectacle for the regulars and frankly it was getting embarrassing.

“Maybe it’s some kind of joke?” he calls out as he folds his apron into the drawer in front of him. If this was a prank it was a pretty elaborate one, but at this point it seemed way more likely then someone actually liking him. Yuuri isn’t exactly used to being hit on, (at least openly) but he’s fairly certain that you’re supposed to know who’s doing the flirting.

Phichit carefully adjusts the roses in the centre of the window before stepping back to admire his handiwork. “Yuuri, a joke would be sending you a box of glitter or a wasps nest, not 30 bouquets.” He turns around, his expression softer, “Is it really so hard to believe that someone might just like you but is too nervous to say?”

“Honestly… yes.” Yuuri knew he wasn’t any kind of intimidating presence, definitely not attractive enough to stun anyone into silence.

“Yuuuuuuuriiii we’ve talked about this. You’re useless at figuring out when people are flirting with you, but _this_ -“ Phichit waves an arm at the rainbow of flowery chaos beside them “- even you have to admit it’s pretty obvious that someone is trying to get your attention.”

Yuuri shuffles on his jacket, sweeping his eyes over each vibrant creation in front of him. Even if they weren’t really his style, they were still intricately beautiful in their own right. “Maybe,” he eventually answers.

He has to admit, underneath all the annoyance and unease of not knowing, the fact that someone had sent him _this_ many flowers was kind of flattering.

“Look, you need to figure out who’s sending these before we run out of window space. At first it was nice decor, but more and more customers are complaining about the pollen,” Phichit chides as he stuffs away his own apron, “and bees apparently.”

“You know I’d take them home if we had space,” Yuuri murmurs as he turns off the outside lights, thinking about the flowery mess of their apartment right now…. or the time he got home and found his dog coated in pink petals and pollen after apparently running into the table.

Phichit follows him to the door, the ribbon previously tying the roses in hand. “Look,” he points towards the label hanging from the end, “they’re all being ordered from the same place, that’s our first clue.”

Yuuri studies the golden script printed along the satin edge.

‘ _Love from the Stammi Vicino florist.’_

He knows the place. It had just opened a couple of months ago a few blocks away. While he’d only glanced at it a few times while sprinting to his shift, he could tell it was more upmarket than your standard flower shop.

He can’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt as whoever was sending these is running up quite the bill.

“I don’t think they’re going to tell me who’s sending them, pretty sure that breaks privacy laws,” Yuuri answers, taking the ribbon and pocketing it.

“True, buuuuut we know where they’re coming from, when they’re being sent and we’re both off tomorrow.”

Yuuri wishes he could ignore the glint sparkling madly in Phichit’s eyes.

“Please tell me you aren’t suggesting we waste our day off staking out the florist down the street just to try and work out who’s sending these?” He tries to keep his voice flat as they walk out and lock the door behind them.

Phichit nods so vigorously the cap from his uniform flutters to the ground.

Yuuri sighs, trying to stifle his own grin.

“Okay fine.”


	2. Chapter 2

27.

He’d sent 27 bouquets and still nothing.

Not a visit, not a phone call, not even a thank you note.

If this were any other man, they might have given up at this point. Actually if it were any other man they probably would have stopped after sending one…. or none.

But not Victor.

Victor is a man on a mission. And that mission just happens to be the adorable barista down the street who’s currently ignoring him for some reason.

Victor leans back against the stack of boxes behind the counter of the Stammi Vicino florist, uncaring about the organised chaos of papers scattered around him that he knows he has to sort.

Not when there’s the enigma of Katsuki Yuuri to solve.

As his eyes drift across the tiger stripes of light softly falling through the blinds onto his log books, he can’t stop the same questions about the other man swirling through his mind…. for fourth week in a row. He knows he has the right address, the right man, the right gift. Why would he not bother to call? After they’d-

“Oi, Victor!”

The angry chirp from his assistant cuts through the clouds of his daydream.

“Are you going to help me move this shit, or keep mooning over that idiot?” The blond teenager beside him pointedly gestures towards the crates of flowers ready for delivery later.

“Language Yurio.” He murmurs as he tries to shake any worry from his mind.

“I told you to stop calling me that!” His scowl sharpens. “You only met that other guy once, why do I get the dumb nickname?”

Victor can’t stop smiling slightly at the memory as he starts moving flowers to the shop floor. “Because I say so. And while you’re under my roof, I’m in charge.”

Yuri rolls his eyes. “You aren’t my parents.”

“No, but I am the one that convinced them to let you stay in the city this summer and help me set up shop rather than shipping you off to camp.” He straightens himself and leans back against the counter, folding his arms. “I can always call them if you like.”

Victor watches with amusement as he opens his mouth for some snarky retort before snapping it shut.

“I wanted to take inventory before Chris gets here, why don’t you start on that for me?” One thing he didn’t need right now was a mocking coming from both his employees.

With another dramatic eye roll, he brushes past him, Victor catching the usual sentiment muttered under Yuri’s breath.

_“Dumbass”_

“Love you too _Yurio.”_ He deliberately elongates the name, smirking as the disgruntled teenager stalks into the stock room behind the cash register.

Shaking his head, Victor looks behind him to give one final assessment to today’s bouquet. After yesterday, he knows he can’t really make them any bigger without roping in another delivery guy, so he’d started to experiment with other styles.

Adjusting the edges, he hopes that he isn’t coming on _too_ strong this time as he’d taken inspiration from the wedding set he’d put together last week: white roses offset with a few fake crystals shining throughout.

Simple but stunning. He knows this _has_ to be the right style for him now.

After everything else he’s tried, he’s starting to run out of ideas.

Reaching underneath the counter, he pulls one of his personal blue roses from the basket and places it in the middle.

“ _Perfect,”_ he whispers as he gently adjusts his signature bloom.

“Twenty bucks says I can guess at least one stop I’m making today?” The rich tone of Christiohe’s voice reverberates through the shop as Victor sighs and turns to address him, an eyebrow raised.

“That stopped being funny ten days ago.”

The other man dramatically brings a hand up to his face in mock offence. “How dare you. My jokes are always hilarious. Though I’m definitely not complaining about an opportunity to see those two again.”

Waving him in, Victor carefully gives one last adjustment to his latest work before handing it to him. Looking over it he quickly whips around, scrambling for something behind the counter. “Wait I just need- aha!” He pulls another signed ribbon from the drawer beside him and reaches over to gently tie it around the base. “There we go.”

Christophe sighs. “Have you thought about maaaaybe delivering these yourself?” His smile doesn’t fade as he carefully adjusts his grip around Victor’s latest creation, avoiding mussing up the delicate weaving of petals and glitter. “I don’t think it’s finding the right type of bouquet that’s going to solve your little problem. Why not just ask him out like- I don’t know- normal people do?”

Victor doesn’t suppress his laugh as he stacks the rest of the deliveries purposefully in front of him, “Chris we’ve known each other a long time, do you really expect me to start to doing things by the book now?” Victor carefully signs the papers on top of the crates before turning back to him.

“I suppose not.”

Victor finishes packing the rest of the flowers before straightening up and smiling. “This is what I said I’d do. So I’m doing it.”

“You’re a smitten fool Victor.” The other man turns towards the door before whipping his head round and winking, “but frankly it’s nice to see. Plus I’m still seeing if I can get that free latte off his coworker.”

“Can’t give up now Chris!” Victor calls as he watches him load the rest of his deliveries, Yuuri’s bouquet placed carefully in the back of the car, “Not when I’m so close!”

Christophe smiles and shakes his head as he climbs in the front and drives away, taking all of Victor’s hope for the day with him. After he disappears from view down the street, Victor turns around trying to find something to busy himself before inevitably jumping and interrogating Chris upon his return.

This has to work. It _has_ to. If there’s one regret Victor has since moving here, it’s not taking a picture of that beautiful grin that burst across Yuuri’s face when he told him he grew his own kind of roses.

He’ll do anything to make him smile like that again.

Picking up the coaster from last month, he idly flips it between his fingers, tracing the shaky script of Yuuri’s name before gently bringing the worn cardboard to his lips.

_“28th time’s the charm.”_

 


	3. Chapter 3

“Target sighted.” Phichit curves his fingers to his thumbs in mock binoculars as he scans the flower shop opposite the cafe they’re currently hiding in. “Okay it looks like those are the deliveries for the day.” He points to the delivery man they’ve seen so often now walking out of the store towards his car, crates in hand. Phichit pulls a pen from his shirt pocket and starts scribbling something on a napkin.

Yuuri puts down his coffee, leaning in to see what he’s writing so furiously.

_11.03AM. Package received. More data needed._

Yuuri leans back in his chair and sighs, thinking of a thousand better ways to be spending his day off. “Phichit, do you think that you might be taking this a _bit_ tooseriously?” he murmurs, ducking his face down to avoid making eye contact with the confused waitress walking past.

“Says the guy who made us sit inside in the middle of summer because you don’t want to be seen.” He taps his pen pointedly against the table before jotting down a few more nonsensical observations.

“The delivery guy knows us and I really don’t want him giving me those in public,” Yuuri murmurs, eyeing the sparkly bouquet being loaded that was most definitely his.

“His name is Chris and I wouldn’t mind saying hi. He’s actually pretty nice.” Yuuri tries not to acknowledge the way he rubs his pen across his bottom lip as he watches the other man stride into the front seat of his car.

“Focus Phichit.”

“Hey I was the one who had to waylay him yesterday. You know he actually-“

“Okay he’s leaving,” Yuuri interjects, pointing to the car now slowly pulling away from the shop. “ Is there anyone else in there? Someone who might have ordered them?”

Phichit folds his hands back into binoculars and leans forward, Yuuri now extra glad that the cafe has one way windows. “It’s pretty shady. But we haven’t seen anyone else go in or out since they opened.”

“Great.” Yuuri slumps his face against his palm. “Glad to see this was a complete waste of time.” When he heard Phichit’s alarm go off at an ungodly hour on one of his precious days off, every rational part of his mind told him that this was a dumb idea and sleeping was the only thing worth doing this morning. Unfortunately it was the one niggling thought which had taken root like so many of those flowers that had him out the door while the sun was still stupidly low in the sky.

_They just might be there though._

“Yuuri,” Phichit leans back in his chair, giving a dramatic sigh, “I’m afraid it’s as I feared.”

“What?”

He looks Yuuri dead in the eye, his tone teasing. “It’s the 21st century and they probably ordered them online.”

The fact that this somehow did not cross his mind even once since hatching this stupid plan has Yuuri dropping his forehead against the table in frustration.

Repeatedly.

“Why did you suggest this then?” He mumbles, lifting his head to rest his chin of the table’s edge, narrowing his eyes.

Phichit shrugs his shoulders, shoving the last bit of their shared muffin in his mouth, “Fun I guess. Plus I was genuinely curious to see what this florist is like.” He crumples up the napkin with his notes to wipe the crumbs from the edge of his mouth. “Gotta say, they’re getting some some pretty fancy flowers. They must have a discount or something.”

“Maybe.” Yuuri lifts himself up enough to drain the rest of his coffee. While this wasn’t exactly what he wanted to be doing today, finding out who was responsible for such an outlandish gesture would’ve been nice. Also the possibility of ending his currently extremely long dry spell wasn’t exactly an unwelcome thought. He likes to think that someone putting in more effort for a date than possibly anyone else on the planet has to be good for at least one interesting conversation.

At least they’d have a talking point.

Looking back out across the street, he notices someone else exiting the shop, silver hair catching the morning sunlight as he bends down to water the bushes framing the entryway.

He’d recognise that hairstyle anywhere.

 _“Oh shit.”_ Before Yuuri can even take another breath, he’s flinging himself under the table.

“Oh hey that must be the owner! Maybe they-“ Yuuri hears Phichit trail off as he notices how the chair previously occupied by him is suddenly empty.

“Yuuri?”

 _“Down here,”_ he mumbles against the knees that he currently has his face buried in.

He hears a shuffle and then Phichit’s voice a little closer.

“Yuuri, um what are you doing under there?”

 _“It’s him.”_ He can’t believe it. He can’t be _here_. Not now. Of all the places to see _him_ again why did it have to be here.

Yuuri desperately tries to steady his breathing but the room suddenly feels like it doesn’t have quite enough air.

“Who?” He feels the gentle poke of Phichit’s fingers against the crown of his head, concern laced in his voice.

Yuuri slowly lifts his face up from his knees, the colour in his cheeks probably pink enough to match the roses from yesterday.

“Victor.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Wait THE Victor?” After pulling Yuuri back to his seat he points to the man now adjusting the chalkboard on the pavement outside, smiling gently.

Yuuri nods shakily, keeping his eyes cast down.

“The Victor from the bar?”

He nods again, feeling another flash of heat fill his cheeks at the memory.

“The Victor that you-“

“Yes Phichit! THAT Victor!” His voice cuts through the quiet room causing a few patrons to look over in surprise. Frankly cafe etiquette is the last thing on his mind right now. The main thing being last month’s “incident” as he and Phichit had dubbed it, something he’d been desperately trying to bury at the back of his mind ever since it happened.

“Wow you weren’t kidding,” Phichit mumbles, turning to stare back out of the window at Victor, “he is hot.”

“I know,” he groans, daring to flick his gaze to the side and catching the other man reaching up to adjust the sign under the door, trying not to focus too obviously on the clear flex of his back muscles as he stretches.

Yuuri feels the blunt jab of Phichit’s pen in his cheek forcing his gaze back to him, his eyes burning with curiosity.

“I know you’ve told me, but _come on_ , it couldn’t have been that bad.”

“Yes it was. I drank myself stupid to try and forget that it happened.” There wasn’t much memory to sift through after said “incident,” just the blur of some bright lights, a flash of him staring at his smirking reflection in a dirty bathroom mirror and the feeling of the warm press of someone’s hand on his back as he threw up in the alley next to the bar. It was a miracle that he somehow managed to make it home with his wallet and phone.

Just not his dignity.

“Yes, I still vividly remember finding you the next morning passed out on our couch, hugging the remnants of a chicken sandwich,” Phichit chuckles, clearly thinking back on the sorry lump Yuuri had been that day. He might have also found it funny if it hadn’t followed possibly one of the worst nights of his life.

Yuuri firmly rubs his eyes behind his glasses as if he could somehow scrub the memories clean. “Yes, thanks for reminding me about how I continue to find places deeper than rock bottom.”

Phichit stops laughing and Yuuri feels his arms gently being lowered to the table, the other man’s face softening. “Yuuri, I seriously think you’re overreacting.”

“How? Name one way it which I could really be overreacting here??” he hisses, trying not to flash back to that night.

Phichit raises an eyebrow. “Well hiding under the table for one thing, you know he can’t see us through the window.” He looks back out for a second before flicking his eyes back to Yuuri. “He also doesn’t look like he’s still thinking about it, I’m sure if you just go and talk to him that you’ll-“

Yuuri has stopped listening by this point, far too distracted by Victor wiping down his front window and wondering how someone can look so effortlessly graceful while doing such menial tasks.

“I can’t believe he could own that place,” he mutters as he continues to stare. “He works so close to us… oh God what if he lives near us!?”

“Well knowing your luck he probably does. Life’s funny sometimes,” Phichit chuckles again as he signals the waitress for another coffee.

“Phichit!”

“Okay, okay,” he reaches over to gently grab both of Yuuri’s hands, “what are you the most worried about?”

“That I’m going to run into him eventually.” Yuuri doesn’t even want to imagine what someone like Victor would even have to say to him at this point.

“Given how close we work that is a dinstinct possibility, so you need to be prepared for it.”

“What do I even say? I’m probably the last person on earth he wants to see.” The thought has a familiar worry brewing thick and unwelcome in his stomach.

“Well just be causal. Like ‘Hi Victor, nice to see you again. Didn’t know we both lived in the same town! Anyways I’m really sorry for that night at the bar when I-“

He can’t stop himself looking out of the window again as Phichit talks, before feeling all the colour drain from his face. “Oh God no.”

“What? I think that’s a perfectly normal way to talk to someone. Now all we have to-“

“No!” He whisper shouts as he shuffles in his seat, wildly gesturing to the figure rapidly approaching outside. “I think he’s coming this way.”

Phichit looks out the window as well before turning back, not bothering to hide his smirk. “Yup that seems to be the case.”

“Shit!” Yuuri didn’t really expect to be seeing the dirty underside of a table today, let alone twice, but right now his panic-addled mind is telling him it’s the best place to be.

“Yuuri you cant hide under the table forever,” Phichit whispers as Yuuri fits himself back into the cramped space, “you’re going to get gum in your hair.”

“Ssshhhh.” He backs himself as far as he can into the corner, wrapping his arms around his knees. “Yes I can… just tell me when he leaves.”

He watches Victor’s legs come into view as he walks to the counter and tries not to focus on how clearly he can see the outline of his calf muscles through the bottom of his trousers.

“Yuuri.” Phichit’s face appears under the table again, amusement still painted all over his expression. “What exactly is your plan here?”

“Just don’t let him see you,” he murmurs, crumpling himself into the smallest ball he possibly can, hoping he can somehow fold himself out of existence.

“Yeah that’s going to be hard,” he hears Phichit’s cheery tone floating above him.

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to talk to him.”


	5. Chapter 5

Coffee.

Victor _needs_ coffee.

Well, he isn’t exactly sure if he needs coffee, or if he just needs an excuse to visit the coffee shop where a certain cute barista just happens to work… and who might be receiving his bouquet right now… and who is still making the executive decision not to talk to him.

He puts down the watering can he’s currently holding with a little more force than probably neccasary, wincing at the sudden cold splash of water soaking through the bottom of his shirt.

He shouldn’t be thinking about that. At least, he thinks that he really shouldn’t be thinking about that. Even if he’s already 28 bouquets down at this point.

At first he thought that Yuuri might just be shy, or waiting for the right moment, or that Victor hadn’t found the right bouquet yet, but with each creation he spent so long perfecting disappearing in Chris’ car day after day, he can’t help the same little niggling question worming it’s way to the front of his mind.

_Maybe he’s just too polite to say no? But if that’s the case why did he-_

The watering can teetering on the ledge in front of him suddenly falls to the ground before he can dive too deep into the mess of his own mind. He glances down at the puddle forming around his shoes and exhales slowly.

Maybe a little break isn’t such a bad idea.

Looking down the road where Chris drove off earlier he shakes his head and walks over into the coffee shop opposite his florist, scanning the menu for something to drown his feelings with.

If coffee can even do that.

As desperate as he is to check in on the man he’s been attempting to woo for almost a month now, the same wall of rationalisation stops him as it does every time he turns towards that end of the street.

What exactly would he even say to him when he gets there? “ _Hey Yuuri, great to see you again. Any reason you haven’t reciprocated the 28 bouquets I sent you in the hopes that you’d go on a proper date with me? I mean ever since I last saw you I’ve only been able to think about your-“_

“Could you pass me that?” He’s broken out of his rather innaproriate trail of thought by the slight man standing next to him, currently pointing to the sugar on the counter.

“Oh- sure.” He smiles as he passes it to him, catching a familair looking sparkle in his eye. He can’t help wondering if him and Chris have met.

He holds the sugar in his hands but doesn’t make to move, smiling at him almost expectantly. After a couple of slow seconds the thought that they’ve already met and he’s completely blanking on who he is starts to creep cold and unwelcome in the back of his mind. Still if there’s one thing Victor is, it’s forward. “Do we know each other?”

The other man laughs a little, amusement alight in the dark swirl of his eyes. “No I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure-“ he extends his hand, practically beaming at him, “-yet.” He catches the swift wink at the end of the statement and is now more than a little convinced that he knows Chris.

Or if not, he should definitely introduce them.

“I’m Phichit,” he continues, happy as ever. “I don’t normally frequent this particular place but I’m not going to miss a chance to try the city’s best coffee,” he gestures to the sign hanging on the door behind them. “I mean eight other places within a mile say the same thing, but I’m fairly certain this one claimed it first.”

Victor smiles. For once it’s nice to have a conversation with someone who isn’t either constantly complaining about working with him or teasing him about his current mess of a love life.

Grabbing his hand, he shakes it thoroughly. “Victor.”

“So, you work at the flower shop over there?” He looks down at the logo on the apron he still has on.

“Actually I own the place.” He can’t help grinning at his own little achievement. “I set up shop about a month ago. It’s been a nice change from my previous job, plus people keep telling me this is a really nice part of town.”

Phichit nods, drumming his fingers on the counter. “Has it been busy?”

“Yeah, well it’s summer so there’s a lot of really nice blooms this time of year.” He can’t help his expression softening as he thinks about all the different pieces he’s gotten to work on over the past few weeks, especially finding all kinds of different styles for Yuuri. “So I havent exactly had much of a chance to have a proper look around yet, this is my first break all day actually.”

“Soooo you havent talked to many of the locals yet? I swear we’re a friendly bunch.” He starts to twirl a straw between his fingers.

Victor laughs a little. He’s never met anyone so happy to chat to a random stranger in a coffee shop. He was either hitting on him, or he’s found the one person who actually still wanted to make friends the old fashioned way. “I’ve talked to a few, customers mostly. I’m hoping to get to know the city a bit better when I have some free time.”

“There a lot of great bars around here.” Phichit leans in, something akin to curiosity sparking in his expression. “You seem like someone who might like a drink.”

Victor steps back a little, trying not to seem rude. Okay this guy was either very definitely trying to ask him out or had a real interest in his life all of a sudden.

“I mean- I had kind of a welcome do a few weeks back at a place round the corner. That night was definitely…” _amazing, wonderful, life changing, “-_ interesting _.”_

“Interesting?” The other man cocks his head, his smile not faltering.

Victor smile widens at the memory. “Well since I ended up having to change my shirt twice, I’d say it was definitely-” _the most fun he’s ever had_ , “-interesting.”

He catches another flash of curiosity across the other man’s features as he leans in further. Victor takes a visible step back this time as Phichit opens his mouth to speak again when a bored sounding voice rings out above the general chatter of the cafe.

“I have two lattes for… Vincent??”

Victor has a quick look around before sighing and turning back to Phichit. “Given the lack of anyone else in this line I’m assuming that’s me.”

Phichit doesn’t suppress his laugh. “Well if the coffee man says it’s so, then that’s definitely your new name now.”

He laughs again, shaking his head as he grabs his drinks and slowly backs towards the door. “Well thanks for the chat, but I should probably head back now. You should definitely stop by the shop if you need flowers for anyone.” _Definitely not my type_ he thinks, but he has a sneaking suspicion that Chris would be more than happy to meet him if he hasn’t already.

“Hey thanks!” His expression lights up as he claps his hands together. “You know I have this coworker who _really_ likes big bouquets. Like crazy big bouquets, he can’t get enough of them.”

“Really?” Victor raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Most people prefer simpler styles unless it’s for something really special.” He can’t help but wish Yuuri was that easy to please, they’d be on their fourth date by now.

Unless.

“Where do you work?”

He sees the first flash of hesitation whip across his face as his grin drops for a fraction of a second. “Well actually I-“ his eyes suddenly go wide with shock as he’s cut off by a loud slam ricocheting from behind Victor.

Whipping his head round, he notices the door to the cafe shaking on its hinges and the smudged blur of what could be the back of someone’s jacket disappearing at lighting speed past the edge of the window.

“Ah- looks like my friend may have left the stove on. Well I hope we can continue this later.” Phichit shoves the sugar back towards him before dashing out of the door behind whoever it was that just made a beeline down the street. “See you Vincent!” he calls as he sprints and waves past the window.

Victor stares at the spot where him and his speedy friend had vanished for a long few seconds trying to piece together what exactly happened. Eventually he blinks himself back to reality and heads back to work, thinking back on conversation he just had. Phichit was definitely…enthusiastic, but seemed like a nice guy. Though when he was talking about his coworker he couldn’t stop himself hoping that it could be- he cuts off that train of thought before he lets it go to far. He was in waaay to deep with his own plan, reaching almost sad levels of desperate at this point.

Yuuri would bounce back into his life when he was ready.

At least that’s what he keeps telling himself.

It’s only when he’s leaning on his shop’s counter half an hour later and sipping his drink that a weird realisation hits him.

“He didn’t even have a drink for that sugar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These daily(ish) updates are starting to kill me but I’m going to keep doing them for as long as I can!


	6. Chapter 6

He’s working on a third poodle stencil for his latte art when Phichit stumbles through the front door of their apartment, flushed and visibly wheezing.

“I keep- forgetting- about that- stupid- stamina of yours,” he gasps out, collapsing against the back of the door as it swings closed.

Yuuri doesn’t respond, trying desperately to focus on his coffee art and not how much more of a fool Victor probably thinks he is thanks to his supposed best friend.

He slams his spoon down at the thought.

He hears the uneven footfalls of Phichit staggering towards him before he smacks both his hands down on the counter next to him. “Oh come on are you mad at me?” Phichit props his head up on his hands, leaning in annoyingly close and pouting.

Yuuri flicks his eyes up coldly, hating how he apparently just sees this whole thing as a giant joke. Sprinkling some cinnamon over the stencil above his coffee, he keeps his voice as flat as possible, trying not to let the hurt shakily seep through. “What do you think?”

Phichit sighs, “Yuuri, just listen to me-“

Childishly, he grabs his mug and turns away, starting on another stencil he’d previously been cutting out by the hob.

“Yuuri!” He’s next to him in an instant, his voice a little more desperate, “God just-“

“I don’t want to hear it Phichit.” He moves to turn again but two surprisingly firm hands grab the backs of his forearms, turning him and forcing him to look the other man dead in the eye. The surprisingly hard stare that greets Yuuri’s gaze briefly stops him from pulling away.

“Yuuri,” his voice is flat and steady, “I didn’t even mention you.”

Yuuri blinks rapidly in surprise. “You didn’t?”

“Yuuri, What kind of friend do you think I am?” He rolls his eyes and releases Yuuri’s arms. “Of course I didn’t mention you.”

“Oh.” He gently puts down his stencils on the counter, a small relief washing through his mind. “Then what did you talk to him about?”

Phichit smiles and shrugs a little. “I just wanted to see what kind of a person he is. Honestly he seems pretty nice.” He reaches over and takes a sip of Yuuri’s latte. “Funnily enough he didn’t immediately launch into a tirade about any ‘incidents.’”

“So- you didn’t mention it?” Now more then anything he’s just curious to see what Victor is actually like, a small glimmer of hope that just maybe he wasn’t so pissed at him after all forming at the back of his mind.

“Well I asked if he’d been out much and he said he had an ‘interesting’ night a month ago.” Phichit quirks an eyebrow at the word.

Interesting. Well if interesting means completely ruined by a drunk moron then he was probably right. Still, it isn’t exactly the word Yuuri would have used. “Were those his exact words?”

Phichit nods, putting down his cup. “Yup. Oh and something about having to change his shirt twice.”

“Twice?” Okay now Yuuri is confused. “I mean I thought he’d have to change but not more than once.” The more he’s hearing about it, the less sense this entire situation was making to him. He knew he must have ruined Victor’s night, along with his shirt, and then he fled like a coward. Unless-

No. The rationalisation cuts through. Victor was just being polite. Of course he wasn’t going to complain about some idiot he met at a bar to an almost complete stranger like Phichit. Of course _interesting_ was the type of word he’d use… and judging by the shirt situation, his night only got worse after Yuuri bolted and hid.

“Uh Yuuri?” He’s snapped out of his downward spiral of embarrassing thoughts by Phichit shaking his shoulders a little and sighing. “If we’re going to move past this you _have_ to tell me the full story.”

He feels his cheeks flush at the blurred memories that he frankly does not want to relive. “I already told you,” he mumbles, trying to turn away.

Phichit immediately grabs him with another surprisingly strong grip, holding him in place. “No you haven’t. I need all the details if you’re ever going to live this down.”

Yuuri opens his mouth, but the twisted image of Victor’s face after it happened has him immediately clamping up again. He can’t go through it again.

He just _can’t_.

Phichit sighs and steers him towards the couch, gently setting them both down. Yuuri rarely sees Phichit’s serious face, but the look in his eyes now has no trace of humour. “I want to help,” he murmurs softly, reaching out to take one of Yuuri’s hands. “You can’t just keep ignoring what happened forever, _especially_ considering you’re probably going to run into him again at some point.”

Yuuri lets out a long exhale, taking off his glasses to rub at the rawness behind them. He knows he eventually does need to move past this, especially with flashbacks of what happened working their way into his dreams almost every night, the fact that he acted like such a collosal idiot in front of possibly the most attractive person he’s ever seen souring any sort of happy mood he’s had over the past few weeks.

He takes another steadying breath before turning to Phichit and leaning in a little closer.

“Okay fine.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happened???? We’re about to find out!!!!


	7. Chapter 7

Victor knows that he has so much to sort out right now, but he’s also accurately aware that he won’t be able to until-

The door of the shop rings out as Chris makes his way in, clipboard in hand.

“Hey Chris,” he tries to keep his voice level, “how were the deliveries?”

“He means how was the idiot.” Yurio’s sharp remark rings out from the stockroom behind them, causing Victor to roll his eyes and slam the door with his foot.

“Hush Yurio,” he calls through the wood, “inventory isn’t going to take itself you know.”

He hears the muffled grumble of his answer but decides to ignore it, striding over to where Chris is currently leaning on the counter.

“You know he is right, so I’ll skip the niceties,” Chris muses as he pushes his papers across the counter. “It’s his day off today, his friend’s too.”

Victor tries to ignore the slight pout that follows the last few words as a familiar dissapointment brews coldly in his stomach. “Oh.”

“I left them with the owner but come oooon Victor,” he props his head up on his hand, looking him dead in the eye, “even if he was there today do you really think the outcome was going to be any different this time?”

Victor slouches back against the wall, trying to ignore the fact that all his hope from the past 12 hours has been smashed into tiny tiny pieces… for the 28th day in a row. “Maybe?”

“HA!” They both ignore the cartoonishly loud laugh that reverberates through the stockroom door.

Chris sighs and walks behind the counter, reaching out to put both his hands on Victor’s shoulders. “Victor, I’m saying this because I love you. You need to either stop this crazy ‘seduction’ you’re trying or go and talk to him directly.”

“Chriiiis.”

“Hey.” Victor is surprised by the seriousness glowing in his eyes. “I know you don’t do things normally, but you have to see now that this just isn’t working.” He glances over to the 27 signed orders crumpled by the cash register. “Plus I don’t even want to think about how much money you’ve thrown away on this little venture.”

Victor sighs. Deep down he knows he’s right. Actually he’s pretty sure he knew when there wasn’t an answer after the fifth bouquet. They just clicked so well that night that he was so _so_ sure Yuuri would want to see him again.

He steps away from Chris and looks down at the notepad on the counter full of his rough sketches for all of Yuuri’s bouquets, each one more intricately drawn than the last. The same thought that has been darkly swirling at the back of his mind every time he goes to sleep rings loudly in his ears.

_If I actually talk to him he’ll turn me down._

He shoves the thought down again as he absentmindedly starts doodling on the pad.

He just isn’t used to this.

Victor isn’t a man who gets nervous. He knows how to catch every eye in the room, how to charm, how to get what he wants… but with Yuuri?

He presses his pencil down a little firmer on the paper.

For some reason he just can’t get the thought of impressing Yuuri out of his mind. After a while he realised that it wasn’t even so much that he wants to get a date out of it… okay it is… but just the thought that these flowers might be making him smile made him feel a little warmer inside every time he sends them off.

Looking down at the mess of doodles, he lets out a beleaguered sigh before forming a final plan in his head.

“Okay Chris,” he mutters as he starts sketching furiously, “one more.” If there’s another thing Victor doesn’t do, it’s anything halfway.

“What?” Chris walks over and audibly gasps at the image forming on the paper. “Victor uh… wow. Are you sure you want to do that?”

Victor drops his pencil and surveys his work. “One last attempt.” He opens up the laptop beside him and starts placing the relevant plants in his online cart. “I promise that after this one I’ll actually go and talk to him.”

“Pfft, like that’s going to happen.” He whips his head round to catch Yuri sticking his head through the stockroom door, an eyebrow raised.

Chris rolls his eyes and steps in front on him. “Run along now Yurio, the grown ups are talking.”

He sees the venom seep into his expression. “Hey you don’t get to-“

“Yuri,” Victor raises his hand, his surprisingly open expression stopping the insults that were probably about to spill. “Please.”

Shaking his head, he stalks back into the stockroom, mumbling under his breath, “I might as well live in here.”

Chris turns back around, hands on his hips and curiosity in his eyes. “Okay Victor I’ve had it. You have to tell me what exactly happened last month.”

He looks up from his laptop in confusion. “I have havent I?”

Chris lets out a small laugh as he leans back on the counter next to him. “No, you’ve started to, but then you normally launch into some flowery prose about how amazing Yuuri’s thighs are. I need full details if we’re going to find the right way to move forward here.”

Victor finishes setting up his order before closing his computer and turning fully towards Chris, the biggest grin on his face.

He’ll never get tired of reliving that night.

“Okay, here’s what happened!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay okay I PROMISE that we’re getting to what happened that night in the next chapter, though with these two both telling the story, who are we going to believe?


	8. Chapter 8

_**Four weeks ago (Part one)** _

 

_“Hi, I’m Yuuri. I hope you don’t mind but I’ve already been drinking excessively…”_

_“Hey glad you made it! I’m sure there’s a perfectly good reason for you being nearly an hour late…”_

_“Hey, I’m really really bad at introductions so do you mind if we just drink in silence for the next thirty minutes?”_

Yuuri sighs and stares at the idiot muttering introductions in the reflection of his beer. At this point he’d probably make the best impression by sticking his glasses on the guy sitting next to him and bolting.

Taking a long sip of his drink he tries not to shoot another obvious glance at the door of the bar. He’s fairly certain the couple next to him has noticed that he’s been checking the time on his phone every two minutes for the last half an hour.

Since Phichit had so dramatically announced that it had been exactly two years since Yuuri’s last date a week ago, he’d finally caved and let himself be set up with one of his old college friends.

He looks down to his phone wondering whether he’d lower himself to stalking his Instagram again. His most recent post was him with a new puppy. He’d joked to Phichit earlier that their mutual like of dogs would give them at least twelve seconds of a conversation, but at this point it’s the only material he’s got.

He takes a longer drink from his glass and shakily sets it down.

He thought by four drinks in he’d feel less nervous but right now he can only imagine all the various ways he could screw up in the first five minutes of the date.

As he wonders whether tonight was really worth putting on his good cardigan, his phone lights up with a text from Phichit. He reaches over and swipes up, hoping he knows where the hell this guy is.

 

P: _Soooo you want the good news or the bad news?_

 

He puts down his drink and has another sneaky look at the door as he answers.

 

Y: _The good news I guess_

P: _You don’t have to be nervous anymore_

 

Yuuri furrows his brow a little before tapping out his reply.

 

Y: _Okay… what’s the bad news?_

P: _Steven just texted. He isn’t so sure about tonight anymore._

 

He suddenly feels like his last four drinks are being whipped up by an angry blender in his stomach.

 

Y: _He isn’t coming?_

P: _Sorry Yuuri :(_

 

He feels like slamming his phone on the edge of the bar but fights the urge by gripping his glass so hard he’s sure he could shatter it.

 

Y: _It’s fine. I’ll see you at home later._

 

He drains the rest of his beer in two swallows.

Of course. _Of course_ when he makes an actual effort to end this embarrassingly long dry spell, his attempt fails before it even begins. That guy could probably smell the desperation from a mile away and decided to give this night a miss.

Yuuri gestures to the bartender for another drink.

As it’s poured in front of him, he glances over at the two people next to him who are happily chatting away, their hands linked on the edge of the bar.

Yuuri grabs his glass and swivels in his seat dejectedly. Right now he feels that he’d fit in much better drinking in some dark corner by the bathrooms.

At least then he won’t bring anyone else down.

Standing up, he suddenly feels the last few drinks hit him all at once, his bones feeling a little too light, his head airy. He tries to keep himself steady but ends up stumbling forwards rather ungracefully. Throwing a hand out he breathes out in relief as he manages to stop himself collapsing to the ground… before realising that he’s smacked into the man standing next to him with some force.

Wincing in surprise, the sounds of a splash and shattering glass reverberate through his mind as he tries to find his footing again.

“Wha-“ Feeling something cold splatter on his shoe, he looks down and audibly gasps at the shattered remnants of at least four glasses of red wine lying scattered next to a dropped tray on the ground in front on him. He blinks confused at the surprising lack of liquid on the floor, before looking up and realising that it’s mostly been absorbed by the white button down of the man standing in front of him.

He can physically feel all the colour draining from his face. That shirt looks like it cost more than his entire wardrobe.

“Oh god I’m so sorry- I swear I didn’t mean- please just let me…” the rest of his embarrassed rambles get stuck in his throat when he looks up into the face of the man he just so very thoroughly soaked.

Blue eyes warmer than a summer ocean meet his as fine strands of silver hair fall across his face while he falls back a little. Turning his head to the side, Yuuri can’t ignore the soft spread of his eyelashes or the cheek bones that he’s fairly certain he could cut his face on if he really tried.

And he _wants_ to try.

“ _Shit!_ ” The man pulls him out of his flowery daze with his blunt, whispered curse. He shakes his head and pulls the bottom of shirt forward, surveying the damage.

“Oh wait let me-“ He grabs a napkin from the bar and desperately tries to blot the worst of it. He almost drops the paper when he feels the strength of the muscle underneath.

“It’s _fine.”_ The man grabs his hand to pull it away and steps back.

Yuuri feels his pulse jump at the contact, his mind shutting down save for one loud thought.

_Oh god why does he have to be so attractive. Oh god WHY does he have to be so attractive._

“No wait, I can-“ as he tries to take a step forward, his shoe slips on the scarlet puddle on the floor causing him to stagger forward and slosh his own drink on the already soaked shirt.

Never has Yuuri wished harder for a hole to appear underneath him and suck him in.

“Just stop!” The other man holds up his hands as he takes another visible step back, those blue eyes frosting.

“Hey Victor, are you- Oh wow what the hell happened to you?” Yuuri turns his head to see a woman stopped in her tracks next to him, eyes wide as she takes in the sharp mess on the ground and the fact that the man opposite Yuuri looks like he’s just been stabbed in the stomach… and the chest… and the side.

 _Victor._ Even in this mess he can’t stop thinking how even his name is pretty.

Victor looks at the woman next to him and back to Yuuri. “I think it’s fairly obvious what happened,” he mutters coldly, pushing the fine strands of his fringe away from his face.

Yuuri feels his stomach sink further into the floor.

“Is that asshole drunk?” The woman is more pointedly looking at Yuuri now, arms folded.

He ducks his head before he can catch Victor’s eye again, not wanting to know how disgusted he probably looks right now.

His mind may be a clouded mess of alcohol and shame right now, but he is acutely aware that he has two options. He can either stand his ground and apologise more like the pathetic grovelling mess he is, or-

“Sorry,” he gasps out again as he pushes past both of them with more force than probably necessary before he starts running. Running and running and running. Away from the bar, away from that street, away from Victor’s beautiful angry face.

He isn’t even sure where he’s going, the sound of shattering glass roaring in his ears, visions of what he’s just done playing over and over again behind his eyelids every time he blinks. He can feel both his eyes and lungs burning as he runs, flashes of brightness from cars and street lamps fading in and out of his peripheral vision as he continues his desperate escape.

Eventually his legs give out and he collapses forward, leaning up against the side of whichever building is next to him. He tries to catch his breath despite the fact his throat feels like it’s coated in hot sandpaper.

The cool of the brickwork against his hands brings him back to the moment a little as he slides down to the ground, angrily pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“ _I’m such an idiot,_ ” he murmurs into the quiet air, feeling the tears brewing hot and angry behind his hands. _“Oh god he must think I’m the most stupid, clumsy, selfish-“_

A dry sob cuts off his whispered insults.

Pulling his hands away, he lifts up the bottom of his shirt to wipe the thick tears of embrassment oozing out behind his glasses.

After a few more shaky gasps, he looks up and realises that he’s currently sprawled in a pathetic pile opposite another bar.

Pulling out his phone, his finger hovers over Phichit’s number. After a few long seconds he defeatedly pockets it, shakily stands up and slowly walks across the street.

He can’t go back in time, but he can still numb himself with large quantities of alcohol.

Giving his face a final wipe down with the back of his sleeve, he makes his way inside and parks himself in the first stool he sees.

Yuuri knows his face is a patchy, embarrassed mess but right now he does not have it in him to care. He just wants anything that can blot out the image of stupid Victor and his stupid handsome face and his own stupid mess.

“Rough day?”

He slowly raises his head as the bartender stands in front of him, her eyes widening a little when she catches the state of his puffy eyes. “Just the last hour,” he murmurs.

“Must have been one hell of an hour.”

He almost wants to laugh at how spectacularly shitty the last sixty minutes have been. He isn’t sure if anyone else in this whole city has had a worse evening than him. “Oh it was.”

She gives him a sympathetic smile before grabbing a glass from behind her. “What can I get you?”

He hangs his head again, desperately trying to push the sting of his recent actions as far down in his mind as possible.

“Anything. Just keep it coming.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ve heard Yuuri’s side of the story, but what does Victor have to say?


	9. Chapter 9

 

**_Four weeks ago (Part two)_ **

 

_I knew I shouldn’t have invited them. I knew I shouldn’t have invited them._

Smoothing out the more prominent wrinkles on his backup shirt, Victor can’t stop mentally chastising himself as he stalks away from the dimmed lights of the bar.

Running a hand down his face as he walks, he tries to remember how he ever thought inviting his old coworkers out for a few drinks was a good idea. A few months away from them and he’d almost forgotten how terrible they actually all were but half an hour of their vapid company had quickly reminded him of why he quit his old job so _very_ happily.

Ten more minutes of trying to make conversation with those people and he might have actually punched someone.

_“It’s nice that you’re having such fun at your little flower shop.”_

“ _I mean we’re all sure you’ll keep it running longer than six months.”_

_“Not everyone would have been brave enough to give up a position with your salary and move to somewhere so… quaint.”_

He knew they were doing it on purpose. The smile he had stapled to his face felt like it was physically pinching into his skin as he tried to ignore the laughs poorly hidden behind their hands when he told them that _yes_ , he was definitely sure that he’ll never be coming back _._

“ _Bastards_ ,” he murmurs as he continues his annoyed escape down whichever street his feet have taken him to.

As the whisper of the night air cools his mind a little, he thanks whatever lucky stars he still has that he managed to get out of there. He was the one that invited them so he couldn’t exactly just leave, but a spill that made him look like a murder victim was a more than justifiable excuse.

Frankly if someone hadn’t thrown a drink on him, he would have done it to himself within the hour.

Victor winces a little at the the memory of sheer terror in the other man’s eyes after he bumped into him. With all the passive aggressive insults swirling at the front of his mind from his so-called _friends_ , he’s surprised he didn’t have an even shorter fuse at that point.

He breathes out angrily, swinging down another random road.

_God he feels like such an ass._

Yes, one his favourite shirts was stained beyond repair but that man was still the saviour that got him out of there. He just wishes he’d realised that at the time rather than doing nothing as one of his party set her pointed tongue on him.

After a few more minutes of aimless wandering he finally gets his mind back together enough to check where he is. Given the fact he just moved here, he isn’t exactly surprised when he realises he has absolutely no idea.

Fantastic.

He shuts his eyes to gather himself, but flinches internally as flashes of his coworkers’ sneers and the embarassment painted on that other man’s face dance behind his eyelids.

He needs more alcohol. Fast.

Leaning against the nearest wall and scanning his surroundings again, he notices another bar on the corner and makes a beeline towards it.

He can’t change what happened an hour ago but he can blot it out of his mind if he tries hard enough.

The room is fairly crowded as he steps inside, but he spots an open seat by the bar next to a mop of back hair sprawled across the polished wood. He briefly considers the pros and cons of drinking next to an unconscious person when the head said mop of hair is attached to slowly lifts.

He recognises those glasses.

_It can’t be_

“Hey,” Victor says in his cheeriest voice as he sits down next to him.

Turning his head, the other man’s eyes shoot open cartoonishly wide as he flinches back a little in his chair.

“Why are you here?” His voice is barely audible above the hum of the music around them and more than a little slurred.

Victor leans forward to hear him better, fighting a sudden urge to fix the errant hairs plastered to the other man’s forehead. “The other bar wasn’t really any fun, plus our little accident gave me the perfect excuse to leave.”

Victor regrets his wording as he watches the rosy flush from either alcohol or embarassment drain from his face, his mouth falling open. “Oh God I’m so so so-“

“No apologies. Please.” He holds up his hands keeping his voice soft. “I needed to get out of there. If anything I’m sorry that I probably came off kind of-“ he waves his hand looking for the right word, “cold?”

“But- I ruined your shirt,” he mumbles, avoiding Victor’s eye.

“I have others.”

The other man cocks his head, adorable confusion suddenly etched around the warmed chocolate of his eyes. “Where did you get that one?”

Victor takes a second to notice him gesturing to his current outfit. “Oh I always keep a spare in my car just in case of any misadventures.” He can’t help but wink at his own implication causing that pink blush on the other man’s face to bloom again a little more strongly.

Victor feels the smallest warmth spreading like whisky in his gut.

Finding his words again, Victor gestures to the mostly empty glass in the other man’s hand. “Drinking alone?”

”Yeah,” he murmurs as he raises the tumbler and hastily downs the rest of the liquid, his hands shaky.

Victor wrinkles his nose a little. He isn’t sure exactly what he’s drinking but it certainly smells strong and he desperately needs more of this conversation before the other man keels over.

“I never got your name!” He pushes the empty glass out of the way and extends his hand across the wood. “Mine’s Victor.”

“Yuuri.” He grasps Victor’s hand, shaking it thoroughly as he smiles, his eyes crinkling softly behind his glasses.

_God he’s pretty._

“ _Yuuri_ ,” he murmurs, loving the way it feels in his mouth. “Your name sounds like my cousin’s. It might get a bit confusing.”

Victor feels his stomach flip a little at the way Yuuri’s expression flashes with amusement. “Weeeeeell you should call him something else- like Yurio!” Looking over at the other five empty glasses next to him, Victor doesn’t find it hard to see why he’s adorably elongating most of his words.

“Yurio?” He can only imagine how pissed Yuri will be at the nickname.

He _has_ to use it.

“Can’t have you confusing me with your cousin can we?” Yuuri finishes the statement with his own wink, which shoots straight through Victor’s heart.

He thanks whatever God is out there that he was given a second chance to talk to this amazing man and signals the bartender for another drink.

“So what are your plans for the evening then Viiiiictor?” His eyes are bright, the accompanying smile sweet and sloppy.

His original plan had been to get plastered and wake up at noon tomorrow spooning Makkachin, but with Yuuri in front of him, he can feel a new one forming rapidly. “Well my dog’s with the sitter until eleven, so do you mind if I stay here for a while?”

He tries not to bite his lip in anticipation while Yuuri processes his words before his grin widens.

“I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where could the evening go from here? Well Victor does have to change his shirt again ;) 
> 
> Apologies for no update yesterday. I did most of the previous chapters while on holiday and sadly I’m back in the office now :( 
> 
> I’ll keep updating as much as I can but it’ll probably be every other day now. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and commenting!!!


	10. Chapter 10

_**Four weeks ago (Part three)** _

 

“Wait you have a poodle too!?” Victor slams down his drink on the side of the bar, the rosiest warmth spreading through his stomach as Yuuri claps his hands together.

“Yeah! Isn’t he cute?” He shoves his phone clumsily into Victor’s face, the tiniest ball of fluff staring out at him from the screen.

Victor is fairly certain that he’s never made the little squeaking noise that suddenly escapes his lips before.

Yuuri’s head tips forward a little more as he grabs his phone and giggles. “His name sounds kiiiiinda like yours you know- _Vicchan_.”

The way he says it sounds so close to _Vitya_ that he can’t help the way his brain short circuits a little. “Wow that’s- that’s-“ He has a feeling it isn’t just the vodka that’s making him less coherent by the minute.

“Hey what’s that?” He’s pulled out of thoughts about the shape of his name in Yuuri’s mouth by the other man reaching over and plucking a blue petal from his shirt pocket.

“Oh that must have come from one of my roses, I keep a few in the car.” He watches Yuuri study the petal between his fingers with blurry fascination. “I grow them myself.”

“Blue ones?”

“Yup.” He smiles warmly thinking about his own work. “They’re my favourite.”

“That’s amazing!” Yuuri claps his hands together again with glee, swaying vigorously on the stool as he does so.

Okay maybe he’s a bit more drunk than Victor thought.

As he opens his mouth to reply, the music behind them suddely starts thumping a lot louder, people dashing past to crowd the small dance floor. He blinks slowly, the last four drinks dancing behind his eyes blurrily as he tries to comprehend how long they’ve been talking.

“Victor? Helloooooo??” The tap of fingers against his arm has him blinking his eyes open. Yuuri’s face is suddenly a lot closer to his own, his mouth pulled into an adorbale smirk.

He pushes down the thought of what it would be like to bite that plush lower lip, desperately trying to think of a way to keep this conversation going.

_They can get to the rest later._

“So what do you do for work?” He yells above the music.

“What!?” Yuuri brings his hand to his ear as he squints in confusion.

“Work! Where do you work!??” He rolls his eyes in frustration as Yuuri’s face stays annoyingly perplexed. The bassline around them isn’t helping him achieve his goal.

Victor sighs and leans in until his lips tickle the shell of Yuuri’s ear. “What’s your job!!?”

“Oh!” Yuuri grabs the coaster next to him and scribbles out something before passing it to him.

_Eros coffee- Katsuki Yuuri: Barista Extrodinaire._

“My business card!” He proclaims with a flourish as Victor flips the cardboard over in his hands.

“Very professional,” he laughs as he pockets the coaster, wishing this night could last forever.

As he opens his mouth to yell out his own place of work, the song around them changes and Yuuri’s expression explodes with joy.

“Oh man I love this song!” He scrambles off his stool, tripping forward and practically face planting into Victor’s chest. Hard.

He briefly wonders if Yuuri can feel how hard his heart is beating from just that clumsy contact.

“I’d say buy me dinner first, buuuuuut-“ he reaches down to gently readjust Yuuri’s smudged glasses, “I think I can make an exception for you.” He moves he hand down from his frames to gently brush his bottom lip.

Yuuri pushes away from Victor laughing before extending his hand in an obvious invitation. “Dance with me!”

“Wha?” Before he can get another word out, Yuuri is pushing off shakily in the direction of the dance floor, his hand firmly clamped around Victor’s.

* * *

 

The next hour is possibly the most fun of Victor’s entire life.

He knows they’re both sticking out with the way they’re moving, but the feel of Yuuri’s body pressed so warmly against his own is a delightful distraction from the amused stares around them.

As Yuuri grabs Victor solidly round the waist and dramatically dips him to the ground, he realises that over the past few hours he hasn’t once thought about the worries that have been floating hot and angry in his mind since first signing his lease: not his shop’s finances, not his condescending former coworkers, not the fact it’s been almost exactly two years since his last break up: nothing but how happy this man is making him.

Looking up at Yuuri’s silhouette framed against the dimmed yellow lights of the bar above them, he can feel something sliding slowly into place in his mind.

It isn’t just the dancing that’s leaving him breathless.

“Yuuri- I-“

“Oh wooooooooooooooow!” Yuuri pulls Victor back to his feet, swivelling him around and excitedly pointing to the item shining on the small stage in front of them.

Victor blinks in realisation before laughing a little at Yuuri’s exhilaration. “This bar has a pole?”

Yuuri bounces a little in excitement before stumbling back, Victor throwing his arms out instinctively to catch him.

Yuuri laughs again, turning and wrapping his arms around Victor’s shoulders as he tries and fails to steady himself.

Victor moves them away and gently sits him down in a chair by the wall, desperately fighting the urge to kiss the adorbale grin on his face.

Making sure he could actually stay upright was more important at the moment.

“Do you want some water?” He shouts directly into Yuuri’s ear.

Yuuri sloppily nods his head as he slumps further into the seat he’s in.

Victor gently squeezes his shoulder as he slowly retreats towards the bar. “I’ll be right back.”

* * *

 

He almost immediately drops the two glasses of water he’s carrying when he returns.

The first thing he wonders is where Yuuri’s pants went. The second is how exactly a man who has pounded as much alcohol as Yuuri, is still able to support himself on a pole with just the strength of his thighs. The look he shoots at Victor as he slides down has him forgetting there’s anyone else in the room.

He’s taken ten pictures before he even realises that his phone is in his hand.

He smiles at Victor’s reaction, firmly planting both hands on the mid section of the pole and effortlessly lifting himself up again before slowly grinding down. The small crowd gathered around abruptly erupts into applause at the display that Victor knows is going to be burned into his dreams for the next year.

Running towards he stage, he barely has time to throw his arms out as Yuuri sees him move forward and launches himself towards him.

“ _This is the greatest night of my life,”_ he murmurs to himself as Yuuri nuzzles the soft peach of his cheek against Victor’s neck. Never has he been more grateful for a man ruining one of his shirts.

“ _Mmmmgnnabesckkk_.” He feels the warm movement of Yuuri’s lips against his throat as he slowly walks away from the crowd, his arms still wrapped securely around him.

He gently tips Yuuri’s face back to hear him better. “What?”

He’s surprised by how grey Yuuri suddenly looks.

“I think I’m gonna-“ Suddenly heat of Yuuri’s body is gone as Victor watches a Yuuri-shaped blur dart through the door of the bar.

Victor takes a second register what exactly just happened before running out after him.

As his eyes adjust to the sudden darkness outside, he rounds the side of the bar and catches the hunched over mess of Yuuri emptying the contents of his stomach in an alley.

“Oh Yuuri,” he murmurs as he carefully approaches, gently running his hand up and down the length of Yuuri’s back as soothingly as he can.

After what looks like an entire bottle of whatever he was drinking is pooled in front of them, Yuuri shudders a bit and staggers back coughing.

Victor pulls a tissue from his pocket and starts blindly dabbing against Yuuri’s mouth. “Are you okay?”

“ _No_ ,” he gasps as he lets out a few sandpapery coughs, gripping tightly onto his own thighs. “God I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Victor murmurs as he slowly turns him around, gently wiping his chin. “I’ve definitely been worse. I’ve been banned from at least five bars near my old place.”

As he reaches out to tenderly wipe the few tears that so often accompany a good vomiting session, Yuuri falls forward, resting his head against Victor’s shoulder. “ _Why are you so nice to me?_ ” he mumbles against Victor’s shirt, his voice small and muffled.

Victor gently brushes his fingers through the soft fine hairs at the nape of his neck, smiling at his words. “Because you really made my evening.” He pulls Yuuri back a little so he can look properly into the soft cinnamon of his eyes. “Because I think you’re _amazing_.”

Yuuri’s smile softens, before his eyes suddenly widen as he hunches over and throws up again, barely missing Victor’s shoes.

The bottom of his shirt is not so lucky when it comes to the splashback.

Victor sighs as he wraps his arm around Yuuri, taking most of his weight as his head lolls against his shoulder. “Why don’t we get you home?”

As they stagger out into the darkened streets and flag down the nearest taxi, Victor desperately hopes they’ll take a man in a half unbuttoned shirt and no trousers.

As he pushes Yuuri into the backseat, the driver looks slightly confused as he surveys Yuuri’s attire. Thankfully he doesn’t comment. “Where are you heading?”

Looking over at Yuuri’s passed out form next to him, he bites his lip before deciding it’s probably safer to go back to his own place right now. As he tells the driver the address, he mentally repeats that he’ll  _definitely_ sleep on the couch tonight. No matter what.

They can talk properly about the logistics of a date in the morning.

As the driver turns around Victor fishes inside his pocket but is met with a sudden stab of annoyance at the lack of wallet.

“Wait,” he calls out as he exits the car. “Could you just stay here for a second? I left my wallet in the bar.”

The driver turns back towards Yuuri and grimaces. “If he throws up in my taxi you’re paying the fee.”

* * *

 

When he returns to the cab, his stomach falls at the severe lack of a Yuuri in the backseat.

He stares confused into the car before whipping his head round, scanning the area. “Where did he go?”

The driver shrugs his shoulders. “He said something about needing to get home and rolled out the door.”

“Sorry… rolled?”

“Rolled.” The driver shrugs again as he points to the road opposite them. “That way I think.”

“Right.” _Okay, that’s not fantastic._

“Look do you want this ride or can I go find someone who’s going to stay in the backseat?”

“Uh-“ He squints down the road where Yuuri apparently went, but there’s nothing but street lamps as far as his eyes can see. “Yeah, I’ll still take it.”

As the car pulls away, he takes his phone out to see if he can find out if Yuuri is alright before a chilling realisation hits him like a freight train to the face.

He didn’t get his number.

He smacks the heels of his hands into his eyes and bends over, silently screaming.

_How could he have been such an idiot??_

Angrily pocketing his phone, his fingers brush something frayed and a little damp. Pulling it out he recognises the coaster Yuuri had written on earlier, the name of his coffee shop marked in his shaky script.

Breathing out, he takes a moment, images of Yuuri flashing through his mind as he tries to think: the shine of his eyes, the softness of his smile, the godly sculpt of his thighs.

Eventually he collects himself as he strokes the edge of the coaster, formulating his plan and watching the lights of the town pass through the cab’s window.

_I wonder what other kinds of flowers Yuuri likes_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course I had to work the pole dancing in somehow ;)
> 
> I’ll try and update as fast as I can but work in pretty hectic right now :( . Writing this makes me so happy but I feel like if my boss caught me editing fanfic in the office I don’t have the verbal prowess to talk my way out of being fired.


	11. Chapter 11

“So you seriously don’t remember anything after getting to the second bar?” Phichit turns and slows his pace so Yuuri can blearily catch up as they saunter down the misty pink streets.

“Not really.” Yuuri rubs his eyes, exhausted at how this conversation is still going 18 hours later.

“But you were still out for hours after that! What did you do???”

Yuuri yawns, swinging down the road towards their coffee shop. “Honestly Phichit I have no idea. I remember pounding about three more drinks in ten minutes and then not a lot else.” Although the credit card statement he received yesterday confirmed the suspicion that he’d gotten through _a lot_ more.

“But that has to be when you met your mystery crush!” Phichit jumps next to him, expression practically shimmering in the early morning light.

Yuuri rolls his eyes in tired annoyance. Phichit is the only man he knows who can be this animated at 7.30am. “We’ve been over this like four times. Yes. That is a distinct possibility.”

“I mean you could have gotten up to just about anything, you’re surprisingly coherent even when you’re blackout drunk.” He catches Phichit’s smirk out of the corner of his eye. He could be thinking of about fifteen different incidents since they met.

“So you’ve told me.”

“Seriously, you remember Leo’s birthday?” He wraps his arm around Yuuri’s shoulders, trying to pull him out of his tired stupour. “You got through most of his birthday tequila, yet still had the mental faculties to write most of the plot for the King and the Skater III with me.”

Yuuri can’t help but smile through his sting of sleepiness at that. “I’m not so sad that I forgot that to be honest. You know my thoughts on number two.”

“Hey that film is a masterpiece! What most people don’t get is that’s it’s actually a satirical look on over produced musicals. I have the notes on my phone, one second.”

Yuuri giggles a little at the memory, perking up enough to swing step for step with Phichit as he digs in his pocket for his phone. “Okay but you have to admit that compared to the first one it’s pretty- pretty-“

_Oh fuck_

He feels his words drop faster than his stomach at the sight in front of him.

_No. No no no no no_

Phichit continues laughing a little as he retrieves his phone and looks up to meet Yuuri’s gaze. “Yes, I know I’ve gone on about this before but- Oh.”

He vaguely hears Phichit’s phone clatter to the pavement as both men stand glued in silence to the spot.

Phichit is not a man who’s ever lost for words so Yuuri knows that he’s providing the correct reaction when even a man of his vocabulary is stumped by what they see.

They’re supposed to be in front of Eros Coffee. Yuuri is 99% sure that they are except for the fact that the entirety of the front more closely resembles the entrance to some kind of fairy’s kingdom. Rows of colourful bouquets, hand crafted boxes and wooden baskets of flowers engulf the front wall, turning the old brick into a frenzied rainbow of different pastels. Blooms of every shape and hue are hung artfully from the door, lined neatly against the front windows, even the sign has a chain of yellow daisies intricately braided around the old lettering.

As Yuuri dazedly takes a step forward, he feels the slip of something under his feet, only to realise that he’s currently wading through a soft path of blue petals scattered from the door to the bus stop.

It’s as mesmerising as it is utterly terrifying at how much work this must have taken.

He tries to pull himself back to reality, but attempting to catch any train of coherent thought is a fruitless endeavour at this time. Every time he thinks he has the words to describe the current situation, the much louder phrase of ‘ _WHAT THE FUCK?’_ overtakes his mind.

“Wow. Okay Yuuri I think your secret admirer is getting desperate.” Phichit’s words manage to eventually cut through the thick soup of confused awe as he finally registers the small crowd of people now gathered round to enjoy the spectacle.

“You think!?” he whisper shouts as he desperately tries to avoid the eye of their regulars. They’ve seen enough over-sized bouquets being delivered to know exactly who this giant display is for. Some are already taking selfies in front of it.

Including Phichit.

“YUURI!”

He doesn’t have time to pull the phone out of the other man’s hand as the ringing smash of his manager slamming the shop door open, reverberates through the air around them.

He turns to catch an extremely irate looking Celestino making his way through a cascade of petals fluttering from the rattling doorframe. “There you are!!”

“Oh, um hey boss.” _The biggest table in the world couldn’t hide him from this oncoming storm._

“Seriously?” He can see the vein in his temple pulsing purple and angry as he frantically gestures to the foliage around them. “You said you were going to get this sorted! Do you have any idea how long this is going to take to remove??”

He shrinks away a little. He knew Celestino was getting mad at him leaving all his flowers at work but it looks like this display is the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Or rather the tree.

“Look I have no idea where they’re coming from, I don’t know what to-“

“I don’t care! For God’s sake just get it sorted out, we can’t open until we get half this stuff out the way. We can barely keep the door open!” He gestures to the stack of large colourful flower pots once by the door, now smashed by his angry slam.

“Well that sounds like a fire hazard,” Phichit chimes in, his voice light and trademark smile in place. “Don’t worry, we’ll get it sorted boss.”

Celestino takes a breath, his tone steadying. “Seriously Yuuri, no more okay?”

“No more,” he murmurs, desperately trying to shrink down inside his shirt as more people gather round to take pictures of the store.

As Celestino turns he shuts his eyes, hoping that if he closes them hard enough, when he opens them he’ll be pulled out of what was quite clearly just an extremely vivid, flowery nightmare.

“Katsuki Yuuri?”

He groans at the sound of the question so close to his face. Clearly this was still happening.

Opening his eyes he’s met with the familiar grin of the delivery man they’ve come to know so well over the past few weeks.

“Hey again.” His voice is small. Tired.

“It’s always a pleasure to see you two.” He smiles as he offers him a familiar looking clipboard. “Pretty big order to sign for this time.”

“ _For fuck’s sake,”_ he murmurs, angrily scribbling his name on the form, almost punching the pen through the paper as he dates it.

“Hey Chris! That looks like it took a lot of setting up.” Phichit slides between them, smiling warmly. “I make the best coffee in town if you need a break once we’ve made some space for people to actually get in.”

Yuuri barely registers the paper being pulled away from him as Chris walks over with Phichit to the side of the shop, a familiar grin painting his face.

His does _not_ need this now.

As another person sidles up next to him to take a selfie, he can feel something in his mind that’s been winding tighter and tighter over the past month finally snap.

Violently.

Turning on his heels, he feels the force of each step smacking into the ground as he stalks away from the coffee shop.

Only one option left now.

“Yuuri, wait-“ The firm grip of Phichit’s hand is suddenly around his arm, briefly stopping him. “Are you okay?”

He turns to face him properly, his voice a stormy whisper. “I’m done Phichit. I’m so done with this.”

Phichit’s soft expression morphs into a deeper concern at his tone. “What do you mean?”

“All this. ALL THIS and not a note, not a hello, they haven’t even stopped by to say that it’s their work!?” Yuuri breathes out shakily, the annoyance building over the last month finally flaring like a open fire behind his eyes as he points to the store front. “It has to be a joke. Some kind of stupid prank and frankly I am SICK of it.”

He wrenches his arm free and continues his crusade down the street, one firm destination in mind.

He hears the shrinking voice of Phichit behind him as he picks up the pace. “ _Where are you going?_ ”

He turns around one last time, taking in the fuzzy rainbow outline of Eros. “To get this sorted out!”

He might not know who’s sending them, but at least he knows where they’re coming from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Victor, you do like to go above and beyond don’t you?  
> The plus side of being home sick is that at least I could get this chapter out a bit earlier so... yay?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE HAVE ART!
> 
> Please check out [THIS ADORABLE PIECE](https://thewaywardsong.tumblr.com/post/177819597708/i-couldnt-resist-doing-a-little-art-based-on-this/) by the absolutely wonderful [TheWaywardSong](https://thewaywardsong.tumblr.com/)

“Oi Victor!”

Victor’s pulled from his brief dream about whisky-warmed eyes and sloppy smiles by the angry teenager invading his napping spot behind the counter.

“Mmmmmm?”

“What are you doing down there?” Yuri gestures to the partially opened sack of soil that Victor is currently spooning.

“Just- catching up on some sleep before we open,” he murmurs, attempting to bury his face further into the squishy plastic despite the sharp ache in his neck.

Okay maybe the compost hadn’t turned out to be as comfy as it looked at 5am.

Yuri rolls his eyes and holds out his hand. “I’m assuming that mess down the street is why I didn’t see you at the apartment last night?”

“Mmmyup.” He takes the extended hand and pulls himself up, becoming more accurately aware of the burning tiredness settling in his bones as he staggers to his feet. “Chris helped for a bit, but you know what he’s like if he doesn’t get his eight hours. So I finished it myself.”

Yuri pushes the makeshift bed away, leaning in and grimacing. “You look like shit.”

“I see a full night’s sleep hasn’t made you any less cranky,” he murmurs, putting his chin on his hand and resting it on the counter, eyes fluttering closed.

_Just ten more minutes._

“No I mean literally.” He pulls out his phone to snap a quick picture before handing it to him. “Like actual shit.”

Taking the phone, he grimaces at the gaunt, bleary-eyed figure staring back at him, before noticing the clumps of dirt smeared around his eyes and tangled in the fine hair of his fringe.

“You weren’t kidding,” he murmurs sleepily, taking a tissue from the drawer in front of him and wiping the worst of it.

“I do hope this is the day that idiot decides to visit,” he mutters as he grabs his phone back. “I am _not_ sorting through the amount of crap that got delivered yesterday just to make something like that again.”

As Yuri retreats into the stockroom, Victor suddenly feels all the tiredness punched out of his body at his words. Yes he looked like a smushed mess and probably smelled like a compost heap, but he’d done it. He’d actually done it.

His final masterpiece.

Unlocking his own phone, he scrolls through and smiles at the image of the completed shop front colourfully fluttering in the pink light of dawn.

 _“It might have taken hours but it was worth it,”_ he whispers to himself, trying to push down thoughts of the frankly stupid bill he was going to receive for all those different flowers.

Was it over the top? Oh absolutely. But if this was going to be his last hurrah then he was going to go out with a bang.

As he combs the rest of the dirt from his hair, he hears the gentle ring of the shop’s bell.

“Oh we aren’t open-“ he feels his words evaporating into the air as he turns and catches the aproned figure standing in the entryway, glasses slightly askew.

_Okay play it cool Nikiforov._

“Well hi! How can I help you?” He tries not to let a month’s worth of excitement bleed too obviously into his words or get distracted by how good Yuuri looks in his uniform.

Yuuri nervously shuffles for a second before he approaches the counter. “Hey. Uh, I’m not sure if you remember me but -my name’s Yuuri.”

He smiles, his stomach flipping at how his frankly stupid stunt had actually worked… and at how cute the other man was being. “Oh I do, you leave quite the impression.” He leans back down onto the counter, hoping he’d managed to get all the dirt from his face. “I was hoping I’d see you today.”

A flash of confusions paints the other man’s features. “What? Oh because of- right.” He stops fiddling with the edge of his apron and takes a visible breath. “Look you probably know that I’ve been getting a lot of deliveries from here recently.”

Victor stifles his chuckle, leaning forward a little furthur. “That does ring a bell, yes.”

“Look I- I don’t really know what the deal is when it comes to deliveries, and all of them looked like they were pretty expensive but-“ he bites his lip, “Don’t you think it’s getting a bit much?”

_Oh_

“Much?” He quickly straightens himself, feeling the word catch in his throat.

Okay not what he was expecting.

“Yes I mean, some of the ones this month have been pretty… uh large?” The smile accompanying his words is awkward, his expression not quite meeting Victor’s eyes.

He desperately tries not to jump to the worst conclusion as Yuuri continues.

“I mean, it was kind of sweet a first but they just got so gaudy and we really don’t have the space for them and my God today-“ he huffs out a small laugh. There’s no warmth to it. “I mean that must have taken hours.”

Victor swallows the lump forming in his throat, the pain in his fingers from tying all the bouquets together suddenly a hundred times more prominent. “It did.”

“I mean- Oh God I feel bad for complaining but it’s just getting ridiculous! You must see that?”

He manages to suppress his flinch at Yuuri’s slight outburst, the word ridiculous feeling like it was being branded hot and ugly across his forehead.

“I mean- yes, I guess it could be seen as a bit much.”

Yuuri runs his hand down his face, Victor almost able to taste the frustration radiating from the other man. “Look, I don’t really know if I can ask this but do you think you could just- not send them?”

He feels the last sentence pierce through his mind like the sharpest thorn, each word settling heavy and cold in his heart.

“You don’t like them?” He tries to keep his voice level.

“No- I mean yes.- I mean-“ He takes a second, Victor accutley aware that he’s looking for the gentlest words to reject him.

Reject same old ridiculous Victor.

“- Look they’re lovely and you’re clearly very talented but I just really don’t want any more. It’s too much and I-“

“Okay. Okay that’s fine.” He cuts Yuuri off, his voice quiet. He doesn’t want to watch him flounder in an obvious attempt to keep his feelings from being hurt.

It isn’t working anyway.

“Brilliant.” The audible sigh of relief from the other man feels like a slap in the face. “Thanks so much for understanding.”

“No, I’m sorry.” He feels a familiar sandpapery burn scraping in his throat. “Sorry for not stopping sooner.”

“Hey it’s not really your fault is it?” He gives him a small smile, rubbing the back of his head.

“Right.” Great. He _pities_ him.

“I just- I wasn’t sure what else to do, so I thought I should come here.”

“Yeah. That was probably best.” He looks down, “I apologise about your shop front, I can take it down if you like.”

“Oh no- it’s fine. We’re already working on that.”

“Oh- Okay then.” Of course they were. Of course the minute he saw it he wanted it torn down. Wanted that stupid, ridiculous, gaudy display removed. It was too much.

He’s always too much.

“Okay well, uh I should go. Thanks for understanding.” Yuuri turns towards the door before quickly swivelling back, his cheeks a little pinker. “Oh um-look, about the other month, I’m really sorry about all that.”

Victor feels another smack of icy rejection hit him in the face. “You are?”

“Well of course I am.” His tone is light. Clear. “I know I’m really late in saying this but you probably noticed I’m not the most… dignified person when I’ve been drinking.” He looks down embarrassed, the small blush painting his nose lacking the warmth of the last time he saw him. “Like I didn’t mean it really, I always end up doing stuff I regret.”

He feels the punch of those words almost physically knock him over.

“Okay. Okay right. No it’s fine.” He just wants this conversation to end. Quickly.

“Great.” He gives him another small smile as he backs towards the door. Just before it swings closed behind him, he quickly pops his head back in. “Again, I’m really sorry about your shirt.”

He stares at the shop’s door for a while after he leaves.

Eventually he sinks down onto the chair behind the counter, the air around him suddenly feeling a lot drier as the same thought scrapes sharp and painful in his mind.

_He regrets it. All of it. He just didn’t want to say._

He drops his head, pushing the palms of his hands firmly into his eyes until the burn from the unshed tears starts to ache more acutely. As if he could physically squeeze the last ten minutes from his mind if he tried hard enough.

Taking a stuttering breath, he tries to think about how exactly he’d gotten it all so wrong.

He’d done what he always did. Jumped headfirst into his feelings without even thinking how the other person would find that stifling. There wasn’t really anyone to blame for it all blowing up so spectacularly this time but himself.

He lets out a wet, beleaguered sigh.

_At least this time it had ended before he got in too deep._

“Uh Victor?” He hears Yuri’s voice behind him, lacking any of its usual bite. “Are you okay?”

He stands shakily, deliberately not meeting his gaze as he feels the first wave of thick, hot tears welling up behind his eyes. “Do you think you could mind the shop floor for a bit, I need to check the stockroom.”

“Okay sure.”

As Victor walks into the back, Yuri makes his way to the door to adjust the sign, trying to ignore the sound of what was probably a case of ceramic pots being systematically smashed behind him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Yuuri, you have no idea what you’ve just done.
> 
> Hey folks! Just letting you know that this fic will be going on hiatus for about a week as I’ve got some projects that I reeeeaaally need to get done in the meantime. Sorry about that :’(
> 
> Thanks so much for all your comments! Your support really means the world to me.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who’s back. Back again.

Phichit has everything in place.

The lights are soft, the tables spotless and the good apricot pastries he normally hides for himself in the kitchen out on display.

“ _Perfect_ ,” he murmurs as he surveys his work, gently adjusting the one remaining bouquet Celestino has begrudgingly allowed them to keep on the table nearest the counter. He thought about lighting some candles but decided he didn’t want to come on _too_ strongly at first. If there’s one thing he’s not going to do, it’s fumble with his first proper impression.

_Date number two however…_

As he scrutinises his hair in the reflection of the coffee machine, the hears the soft chime of the shop’s bell as the door opens behind him.

He smiles.

_Right on time_

“Glad you could make it,” he murmurs without turning around, gently smoothing out the wrinkles in his apron as he tucks it away in the cupboard in front of him and puts the two nicest mugs they have under the machine’s drip.

He hears Chris’ low chuckle as he approaches the counter. “I thought you didn’t close until ten? Unless you shooed out all your customers for me?”

“We don’t, but my boss went on vacation today so I closed early.” He turns and smirks at the man resting his head in the palm of one hand, an elbow planted firmly on the counter a few inches away from him.

“Impressive.”

“I try.” Phichit suppresses the wink that desperately wants to follow that statement, instead keeping his smile gentle. From the brief chats he’s had with Chris he knows there’s a complex dance of seduction to be played here and he’s not about to waste all his best moves in the first ten minutes.

“You succeed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the place quite so-“ he lazily gestures around the room with his free hand, eyes still soft and hooded, “atmospheric.”

Phichit doesn’t fight his own chuckle at that, a stab of satisfaction ringing warmly in his gut at the fact that his stage has perfectly been set.

_Now for the first move._

“Still want that coffee?” He asks, gesturing towards the table he’d made up properly, the one remaining bouquet blooming brightly in the centre.

“Oh definitely.” Chris strides over and reclines in the nearest seat, crossing his legs. “I’ve been looking forward to trying it all week.”

Phichit’s smile inadvertently widens a little as he fills the mugs and grabs his own hand-made stencils that he’d been saving for such an occasion. As he sprinkles his design he tries to keep his hands steady. Yes, Chris was most definitely his type and there was something about that smile that had old butterflies starting to flap nervously in his stomach.

Looking up, he nearly knocks over his drink at the fond expression he’s sporting behind the round frames of his glasses.

_Focus Chulanont._

Finishing with a flourish, he saunters over with as much confidence as he can muster before placing his creation down in front of the other man.

“Love the heart,” Chris murmurs at the design sprinkled on the foam as he reaches over to take one of the pastries Phichit has laid out.

Phichit rolls his eyes and turns the cup slightly. “It’s a peach.”

His eyes flash wish soft amusement. “Even better.”

Phichit sits down opposite and takes a long sip of his own drink, glad step one had gone so swimmingly.

_Now for two through ten._

“I’ve missed your daily deliveries. It’s been kind of dull without you swanning in every day with God knows how many flowers.” He takes another slow sip. “Didn’t you get bored of coming here every day?”

Chris laughs softly and shakes his head. “It was my favourite stop. Though I’m almost insulted that it took until now to get my free coffee.” He raises the mug in a silent toast before pressing the rim to his lips. “You have offered more than a few times.”

The wink that follows has Phichit forgetting his carefully planned line of seduction for a minute, the pastry in his mouth suddenly feeling _very_ dry.

“Ah yes, well Yuuri and I had kind of a… month-long mission to complete first.”

_Okay, not what he wanted to bring up._

“Mission?”

“Yup.” Okay he just has to roll with this now and hope Chris doesn’t ask exactly what or _who_ they were looking into. “Though thankfully that sorted itself out.”

Chris raises an eyebrow but doesn’t press the matter, Phichit trying to hide his sigh of relief as he turns to look around the shop again. “I see you took down all the flowers.” He gestures to the baron window. “Last time I was here, it was more floral than the place I work.”

“Well most of them.” He puts down his mug looks down to the bouquet between them, the ribbon sparkling softly in the dim light. “I actually kind of miss them, they really brightened the shop up, even when they were all over the front the other day.”

“Yeah,” Chris muses, meeting Phichit’s gaze as he looks up, “That last delivery is probably going to be the biggest of my career.”

“I bet,” he hopes the soft lighting his hiding the pink tinge that’s probably painting his cheeks after falling a little into the deep green of Chris’ eyes. “That- that must have taken hours to set up.”

Chris laughs as he leans in, a familiar sparkle in his expression. “Oh it did, thankfully I didn’t have to do it.”

Phichit’s narrows his eyes a little, briefly snapped out of his partial daze. “You didn’t?”

“No. It was all Victor. Think he started at like 2am,” he murmurs absentmindedly.

“Wow, all that was done by one guy?” He marvels at the impressive feat before a small but burning question pops up in his mind. “But wait, he’s the owner right? Why did he do all the work?”

It’s Chris’ turn to roll his eyes. “After all of his giant bouquets I had to deliver, I wasn’t giving up my eight hours of sleep for that. Even if it did look pretty amazing.”

“Wait- his bouquets? Oh because he made them?” He takes another quick sip of his drink, trying to find a way back to his planned conversational path.

Chris laughs again. “Designed, paid for, obsessed over. Yup.”

Phichit puts his cup down. “Wait. Obsessed over?”

“Yup. He was _determined_ to find the right one.”

Phichit feels a loud realisation slowly unfurling in his mind.

“Chris?”

“Yes?”

“Chris was Victor the one sending these?”

Chris cocks his head, a little confusion seeping into his tone at the question. “Uh, Yeah? Wait Yuuri didn’t tell you?”

Phichit stares down at his cup before dropping his head to his hands, a small annoyed mumble escaping his lips. “Yuuri doesn’t know. Oh god _Yuuri has no idea._ ”

“What? How?”

Phichit stands, all thoughts about his plans for this evening drowning out by the much louder thought of how much of an idiot his roommate was. “I-I have to tell him. He doesn’t know and he’s been feeling so _bad_ about it for weeks now.”

“Wait wait,” Chris stands and puts his hands on Phichit’s shoulders, squeezing gently. “But he gave Victor a pretty hard verbal smack down the other day. Told him pretty clearly to stop sending them.”

“Yeah, because he knew Victor was the owner. He thought he could just stop taking orders from whoever was sending them.” Phichit takes a breath, all the fragments of information he’d gathered over the past month suddenly fitting together in a sharp jigsaw of realisation. “But that person was-“

“Victor yes.” Chris shakes his head as he sets them both down again. “Of course something like this would happen to him. I _told_ that moron to sign them properly.” He lets out a small laugh as he gently wipes a little foam off the edge of his mug. “I mean how could Yuuri not know those flowers were meant for him? Victor will _not_ stopgoing on about that night a month ago.”

Now it’s Phichit’s turn to be more confused. “When he ruined his shirt?”

“He tends to mostly focus on the pole dancing.”

“Wait- pole dancing?”

“Yes.” Chris sighs and leans furthur across the table, his expression warm. “So how exactly does Yuuri not know Victor basically fell head over heels for him that night? They spent an awful lot of time together from what I hear.”

“He has a talent for being surprisingly graceful even when he’s blackout drunk,” Phichit murmurs wondering how stuff like this _always_ seemed to happen to Yuuri. “He doesn’t remember a thing after throwing his drink on Victor.”

“This all makes a surprising amount of sense now,” Chris mutters as he carefully puts his empty cup back on its saucer.

“I know,” Phichit hums quietly as he takes another sip of his drink, wishing more than ever that it was an Irish coffee.

_So much for his seduction plan._

Sighing at the revelation that was now clouding the perfect evening he’d planned, he straightens himself to look the other man dead in the eye, his expression serious. “Okay Chris, I know this was supposed to be a date but right now I think both of our friends are getting hurt, so I need you to tell me exactly what happened that night.”

Chris takes in his sterner expression and smiles, reaching over to gently take one of his hands. “Get me another one of those amazing cappuccinos and I tell you anything you want to know.”

* * *

 

Thankfully Yuuri is still awake when Phichit gets home, his face screwed up in concentration as he perfects what’s probably his fifth decorative latte of the evening.

He jerks his face up from his mug when he hears the door slam.

“Hey Phichit,” he greets warmly as he starts to shake cinnamon over his stencil. “Considering you’re back before eleven and I got no warning text I’m assuming it didn’t go well with Chris.”

His oblivious smile almost has Phichit biting his tongue. The entire walk home, he’d been arguing with himself about whether telling him right this second was the right call. Ever since the flowers stopped arriving at work, he had been a lot more relaxed but the constant back and forth in his head had always come to the same conclusion.

_With Yuuri’s luck, he’ll find out at the worst possible time._

“No it went great actually, we’re seeing each other tomorrow- look Yuuri I need to tell you something.” He grabs Yuuri by the arm and starts steering him towards the couch. “It’s important.”

He frankly has no idea how Yuuri is going to react and having something soft behind him is probably the best plan right now.

“Phichit are you okay?” He yanks his arm away, the beginnings of worry crinkling around his eyes.

“Yes I’m fine. Look-“ He sighs, setting himself down on the couch as he thinks about the right way to phrase this little nugget of news that’s been swirling round his mind for the past forty minutes. “You should sit down.”

“Okay,” Yuuri murmurs as he sits next to him, his face still confused.

Phichit takes a breath and looks Yuuri dead in the eyes, speaking each word as clearly as he can.

“I know who’s been sending you those flowers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Yuuri, you have no idea what’s about to hit you.
> 
> Yup I’ve returned from my hiatus with my projects done and a certain fic to finish ;)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels good to get back to such frequent updates :D

“Uh Yuuri? Are you coming out?”

He barely hears Phichit’s concerned voice through the door as he draws his duvet furthur around his head, just wanting to stay the shame nest he’d made in his bed last night. After the bombshell that was his roommate’s news, his mind had spent the last few hours finding new and increasingly creative ways to tell him what a complete and utter failure he was.

Loudly.

_You failed at remembering what was probably an amazing night, failed at being a remotely good friend to Phichit who abandoned his date and gave up his free time for you and now you somehow failed at getting a dream date when it was all but handed to you on a silver platter. Good job Yuuri._

He muffles another loud groan into Vicchan’s fluffy head, briefly grateful that he didn’t mind hiding away under every blanket he owned with him for the entire night.

“Okay I’m coming in.”

He doesn’t register Phichit’s presence until the sheets are pulled away from his face, the muted light of the early morning burning his sore eyes as the remnants of his blanket cave are piled at the foot of the bed.

“Hey,” he murmurs, wincing as he slumps back against the wall, a sharp pain suddenly radiating from his back. Hunching over in one position for hours of end in a miserable pile hadn’t exactly done wonders for his spine.

“Still in shock?” Phichit murmurs as he sits down next to him, removing the excitable dog from his lap and gently placing him on the floor. “I know it was a lot to take in last night, but you haven’t moved in like ten hours.”

He lets out probably the twentieth frustrated huff of the morning, rubbing the heels of his hands into the rawness of his eyes. “I’ve had a lot to think about.”

“Oh wow, Yuuri have you not slept?” Phichit’s expression morphs into something more concerned as he gently pokes under his glasses, the purpled skin there throbbing even at the soft contact.

“No.”

“Oh Yuuri.”

Yuuri drops his head to his knees, each thought in his mind feeling like a dull ache as the thick stew of information swirls like sewage in his mind. “I’m a terrible human being,” he eventually mumbles against the fabric of his sweat pants.

Phichit sighs as Yuuri feels his face being lifted, the other man’s expression gentle “No you’re not.”

He flinches away from Phichit’s touch, acutely aware that he doesn’t deserve the comfort. “I’m awful and stupid and frankly I deserve to feel like this.”

“You aren’t awful,” Phichit murmurs as he shifts closer.

“What about stupid?”

Phichit smirks and cocks his head. “Weeeeeell considering everything that’s happened this month-”

“Oh shut up,” he snaps, lightly shoving the other man away. He is not in the mood to make light of the situation right now.

“Okay okay I’m sorry,” Phichit chuckles softly, scooting back towards him. “I mean, aren’t you glad you at least know the truth now?”

Yuuri throws his head back against the wall with a little more force than he meant, the drywall shaking at the impact. “I guess, but-” he shifts his head to finally catch Phichit’s eye, “Why does stuff like this always seem to happen to _me_?”

Phichit shrugs. “I have no idea.”

Yuuri reaches down to scoop his dog back up from the floor, once again burying his face in the comforting softness of his fur as he tried to combat the angry thoughts still scraping through his mind. “So I not only spent an entire evening with Victor but I _somehow_ got him smitten enough to send me God knows how many bunches of flowers?”

He hears Phichit let out another soft laugh. “The pole dancing may have had something to do with it.”

His head snaps up, eyes wide. “Wait… I pole danced!?”

Phichit rubs the back of his neck, suddenly avoiding Yuuri’s gaze. “Did I not mention that bit of the story?”

He groans again, dropping his head back against Vicchan. “Doesn’t matter,” he mumbles, “I’ve fucked everything up now anyway.”

“ _Yuuri_.” Phichit wrestles Yuuri’s hands free from under his dog so he can squeeze them gently. “You don’t know that.”

“I ignored him for a month and then insulted all his work to his face. Pretty sure he wasn’t too thrilled about that.” He winces internally as he says it out loud, his voice almost breaking at how much of a thoughtless idiot he’d been.

Phichit shifts furthur towards him, keeping his voice as gentle as possible. “I told Chris everything and he’s probably explained it all to Victor as well.” He softly turns Yuuri’s face towards his. “I’m sure he understands.”

He feels another stab of guilt at how nice Phichit was being to him despite him being possibly the world’s worst friend recently, another nasty thought surfacing.

_You don’t deserve him either_

He ducks his head as he answers, desperately trying to think of a way to make everything up to him. “Thanks Phichit, I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me.” He bites his lip, his next words barely a mumble. “My stupid actions basically ruined your date.”

Phichit sighs and wraps and arms around Yuuri’s shoulders, pulling him into an awkward hug and murmuring against his hair. “Because you’re my best friend. Plus you got me through my last break up.” He squeezes his shoulders lightly, his eyes crinkling fondly as he speaks. “You watched The King and the Skater with me like twenty times to cheer me up.”

Yuuri smiles a little at the memory. “Please don’t get dumped again for a while, I can practically recite that movie now.”

They sit in a comfortable silence for a while, the morning light slowly moving across his room and illuminating the clutter on his bedroom carpet. The dull pain radiating in Yuuri’s mind at how much of a mess his life had become is still ever present, but something about having Phichit there is helping to numb it.

Even if it’s just a little.

Eventually Vicchan makes his restlessness known and hops down from the bed, bounding over to paw at the wood of the door.

Phichit pushes off the bed and lets him out before turning to regard Yuuri fully, arms crossed. “Yuuri, I think the two of you need to have a conversation like actual adults.”

Yuuri looks down and picks at the edge of his duvet, annoyed because he knows he’s right, but his brain bringing up the same loud thought that had been swirling around with the rest of his self-loathing last night.

_You’re a coward._

“He probably doesn’t want to talk to me,” he eventually murmurs, wincing internally again at how spineless he really was.

“Yuuri.” Phichit strides over, his tone more serious than Yuuri has heard for a while. “You know you have to… and soon.”

Yuuri looks over to the clock on the wall, trying to find any excuse not have to face the man he’s so thoroughly insulted… after he’d put in so much work. “I’m working this morning.”

Phichit purposefully walks over to Yuuri’s desk and puts the cap from his uniform on his own head. “I’ll cover for you.”

Yuuri blinks in surprise. “What?”

He reaches over and grabs Yuuri by the elbows, pulling him upright. “Go and fix this. I’ll cover your shift this morning.”

Yuuri feels something warm unfurling in his stomach at Phichit’s genuine smile, but knows he can’t ask him to do any more for him. It isn’t fair. “Phichit- you already gave up date night to tell me what happened, I can’t take your day off.”

“You can if you cover Saturday for me.” He gives him one of his trademark smirks. “I’ve got plans.”

Yuuri smiles and shakes his head at that, wondering what exactly he ever did to deserve a friend like Phichit in his life. “Thank you.”

“I know, I’m a great friend.” He winks as he starts to walk out of his room. “Plus now I _know_ that you’ll do it.”

“Yeah.” Yuuri feels a wave of nervousness start brewing in his stomach but he fights through as he roots through his cupboard for some clean jeans, trying not to think about the fact he was actually going to see Victor again.

“Oh and Yuuri?” He hears Phichit’s bright voice from the hall.

“Yeah?”

He pops his head back round his door, nose wrinkling. “You should probably grab a shower first.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we all need a Phichit in our lives
> 
> We’re entering the home stretch people. Who could possibly guess what’s going to happen ;)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to post this yesterday buuuut ended up taking a four hour nap instead... oops.

_Just go in._

His feet don’t move, his shoes feeling like they’re melted into the asphalt in front of the flower shop.

_Phichit gave up his day off for you so you can’t put this off._

He reaches out to press his hand against the handle, but feels every muscle in his hand seizing up as it makes contact.

_Just do it you coward._

He sighs, pulling his hand away and turning around to lean against the cool glass of the door. All the psyching up the world hadn’t prepared him for the wall of sheer terror that has hit him upon seeing the pastel pink sign of the flower shop.

God he was pathetic.

Looking up, he catches a few people outside the coffee shop on the other side of the street suddenly jerking their heads down to look at their phones. He wants to be embarrassed, but frankly he can’t really blame them considering the show he’d been giving them for the last twenty minutes. He must have walked back and forth past the front door of the shop at least ten times before rooting himself in front of the welcome mat, physically trembling.

He thanks whatever lucky stars are still on his side that the shop floor is deserted, the inside of the store still dim. He’d deliberately gone before it opened as he’d rather his pathetic apology wasn’t overheard by a gaggle of customers just there to buy soil.

He lets out another shaky breath, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses and trying to find that tiny spark of courage that had actually got him out the front door earlier. Avoiding the mess of his reflection in the glass, he clenches his fists, muttering some withering encouragements to himself.

“I’ve got to make this right, I’ve _got_ to make this right.”

When his body doesn’t move, he sighs and tries a different tactic, wondering what Phichit would say to him in this situation.

_“I was going to work on my peach stencils today and sign up for that skating class I’ve been going on about for ages, but now I can’t because I was nice enough to take your early shift and right now you’re acting like a giant-”_

He firmly pushes the door open and strides right up to the counter before his common sense can catch up with his actions.

_Thank you imaginary roommate._

 Scanning the shaded space behind the counter, he tries not to let his fear seep through as he calls out. “Hello?”

“We aren’t open, come back in an hour.” A rather disgruntled looking blond teenager sticks his head round the door labelled ‘stockroom’, his voice as sharp as his expression.

He lets out a tiny sigh of relief, a small part of him still childishly hoping that Victor wasn’t in… or had decided to move to a different city. “Oh I don’t want to buy anything. I’m actually here to see-”

“Wait.” He cuts Yuuri off as he looks him up and down, the pointedness of his scrutiny almost feeling like a scalpel against his skin.

Suddenly his eyes widen. “Oh my God you’re him.”

“Him?”

He folds his arms, the scowl on his face narrowing. “That idiot Victor’s been so sad about recently.”

Yuuri feels another stab of guilt twist in his stomach at the words, the confirmation that Victor was upset making an entire evening’s guilt bubble cold and thick in his mind. He tries to keep eye contact with the other man but feels his voice catching in his throat at his stony glare. “Yeah… look I know how it sounded, but I never meant to-”

“You’ve really got some nerve coming back.” The jab of his finger in the air cuts him off. “I’m fairly certain he got the message last time you were here. You want to rub it in some more?”

Each word hits him like a punch in the gut, Yuuri not exactly sure how much more guilt his brain could produce but it didn’t seem to be slowing down any time soon. He takes a breath, trying to find the right words despite his grasp on English rapidly disappearing. “Look, I-”

“I mean, I know those bouquets weren’t everyone’s style but did you really have to give him the cold shoulder for a month before you even deigned to show your face?” The other man’s voice sharply cuts through several decibels as he speaks, his eyes venomous. “Do you have  _any_ idea of the amount of money and time he wasted on you? How many fucking plants I had to-”

“Listen!” Yuuri feels the words burst through his mouth before he really registers it’s happening, the dam of guilt-fuelled anger in his mind finally snapping. The other man shuts his mouth, regarding Yuuri slightly more warily as he takes a small step back from the counter.

Yuuri takes another long breath to steady himself before he continues, the shame and annoyance pulsing wildly behind his eyes.

 “Look, I know I really hurt his feelings and I you have no idea how much I wish I could take back what happened the other day.” He feels himself cooling off a little as he continues, the anger melting into a quieter remorse.  “I said some really unforgivable things so I want to make it right.”

“Oh really?” The other man shakes his head, expression cold and sceptical.

“Yes. _Really_.” Yuuri can feel the rawness creeping into his voice as he continues, his throat sandpapery and sore with frustration. “Look it’s really hard to explain but believe me when I say this is possibly the biggest most stupid misunderstanding of my life and I- I _never_ meant to hurt him.” He looks down for a second, his voice softening. “That’s the truth.”

The other man takes a second to take in his words before letting out a long sigh and leaning his elbows on the counter. “Well whatever, he isn’t here anyway.”

“Oh.”

“He’s taken the day off and frankly I don’t know if he’d even want to see you anyway.” There’s less spite to his voice, his tone shifted to something akin to old frustration.

Yuuri knows the feeling.

“Right.” Okay, well that had ruined Yuuri’s plan A and he isn’t even sure he has the capacity to form a plan B at this point.

Dragging a hand through his hair in annoyance, he starts his pathetic retreat, his voice shrinking with each step. “Look, when you see him, could you just tell him that” - _I’m an idiot. A selfish, thoughtless, uncaring-_ “-that I’m sorry. That I hope Chris told him what happened and if he needs me… well he knows where I work.”

He turns to leave, the shame at what had happened increasing twofold with the realisation that Phichit took his shift for nothing. He lets out another shaky breath, wondering that if he hurried he could take over for him.

 “Wait.” The word rings clearly through the air just as he presses his hand against the door. Turning around, the shop assistant is suddenly beside him, his expression a little less bitter.

As Yuuri opens his mouth to question, he shoves a piece of notebook paper into his hand, an address hastily scrawled on it. “Here. He should be in all day.”

His heartbeat jumps a little at the realisation of what he has, that he had another chance to fix this. He looks up, a small smile creeping onto his face at the gesture. “Thank you.”

“Please just sort this out.” The other man doesn’t return his smile, but the bite of his voice seems to have mostly disappeared.  “I have no idea what’s going on with you two but mopey Victor is somehow a thousand times more annoying to work with than flirty Victor.”

Yuuri almost laughs at that, his nerves briefly quelled by his words. “I appreciate it… uh, sorry. What’s you name?” If he was helping him out he might as well be a little polite in return.

The other man rolls his eyes, turning back towards the stockroom. “It’s Yuri, now please get out.”

“Yuri,” he murmurs as he exits on to the street, a firm destination in mind.

As he hastily walks away, he wonders why he has a sudden impulse to stick and ‘o’ on the end of his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaawww Yurio, you really do care.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it took a little longer than usual to get this update out, got a tad swamped with work.

Yuuri is quite aware that he’s known for his stamina.

There’s never been a bully he couldn’t outrun, some school distance record he wasn’t able to break, and that there was a reason his last partner kept the largest tube of lube possible under his bed when they were dating. Yet despite all his endurance, he can feel himself being defeated by a flight of stairs.

Well specifically seventeen flights of stairs.

“ _Come on Yuuri… You’ve climbed…way more stairs… than this before_.” His mumbled gasp does little to rally him, eyes burning when he sees that he’s barely two thirds of the way there.  He desperately wants to stop, but knows that when he does there’s an increasing chance that he’ll keel over in front of a random stranger’s door.

He’d rather that not be the way Victor sees him again.

Great stamina is one thing, but so is walking up more than a dozen flights of stairs on no sleep… or coffee. By the time Yuuri reaches the fifteenth floor of Victor’s building, he’s fairly certain he’d rather eat every bouquet he’d been sent than look at the acidic lime green wall paper of the stairwell for another minute.

The fact that he currently feels like he could cough up whatever dried husk of his lungs were left isn’t exactly helping.

He knows it’s his own fault. That he’s stalling facing the inevitable judgement that’s coming his way. The fire of determination that had fuelled his jog over here had died down considerably once he was actually standing outside the apartment complex. So, of course when he got inside he found his legs instinctively walking towards the stairs rather inside the perfectly functional elevator right in front of him.

He lets out another wet cough as he grabs the hand rail to drag his feet up the last few stairs, the thoughts flitting around his dehydrated brain getting increasingly more annoyed.

_Of all the stupid things you’ve done over the past month, this might be in the top three. Good job Yuuri._

Finally reaching the top floor, he collapses against the wall, taking a few deep breathes to try and soothe the rough, burning air scratching in his lungs from his climb. He tries to ignore the dishevelled reflection he can see in the window down the hall or the sweat soaking into the fabric of his clothes as he pulls out the address from his pocket, an increasingly louder part of his mind telling him that, knowing his luck, there is a distinct possibility that he’d come to the wrong floor.

Briefly flicking his eyes up, he pockets the paper when he catches the door in front of him.

Even if he hadn’t been given the door number, he’s fairly certain he could guess which place was Victor’s with the immaculately potted blue roses blooming happily by the base of the door.

As he stands and pads over to the door he can feel himself getting lightheaded and he knows it isn’t from the climb. Well… not _just_ from the climb.

Looking at the door, he wonders whether he should have actually buzzed at the main entrance rather than sneaking in with the postman. At least then if he was going to get yelled at he wouldn’t have to look Victor in the face. In his stupid beautiful face.

That face which has been pretty upset recently because of him.

He reaches out and knocks on the door without thinking.

“Victor? Are you in there? It’s Yuuri.” He clears his throat when his voice comes out like a sandpapery croak, trying his best to sound like an actual human being. “You know… from the flower deliveries?”

There’s no answer from inside. Yuuri waits, each second dragging on painfully slowly, but still nothing. For a few seconds he considers scribbling a note on a piece of paper and sticking it to the door before swiftly heading home to scream his frustrations into a pillow… until he catches the shadow of someone pacing underneath the crack in the door.

His heart leaps in his throat at the sight, his first instinct to bolt for the elevator, but as his heels start to turn, he can practically hear the rational side of his brain screaming at him after weeks of being buried under a thick blanket of anxiety.

_Okay he doesn’t want to talk… fair enough, but you know you’re going to drown in guilt if you don’t say your piece right now._

“Look I’m not sure exactly what Chris has told you but I really  _really_  need to talk to you.”

There’s still no response, the only sounds in the quiet hallway his laboured breathing and the soft scrape of the elevator as it passes his floor.

He bites his lip, wondering if he should continue. He knows he completely deserves Victor’s icy silence after everything he’s done but after everything that’s happened over the past month, he also knows that he can’t back down. Not when he’s finally here.

 “I’m sorry.” He addresses the spyhole directly, hoping Victor can hear how much he means it. “What I said the other day- I mean I had no idea it was you who was sending them but I- I’m sorry that I said those things. I didn’t mean to insult your work, they really are lovely. Every one of them was so _so_ amazing.” He can feel himself rambling so stops, taking a breath and running through the words he’d been wanting to tell him ever since he’d left his bedroom this morning.

“I didn’t even know you could get blue roses,” he murmurs, thinking of the one bouquet he’d left on his kitchen table. It was the simplest one, a soft arrangement of different coloured roses that really did bring a nice colourful energy to the room.

He tries not to think about all the others that he threw in the garbage.

“I’m just really not used to people showing much interest in me and suddenly all those gifts with no note- it just made me think someone was playing some kind of prank. I know I should have figured it out sooner, I mean all that  _work_ you put in…” His voice catches, all the self-loathing of the previous evening ready to spill over cold and sticky in his mind. “I just can’t believe you thought I was worth the effort.”

The pacing stops. He looks down and sees the shadow underneath the door has stilled, remaining close to the wood.

He sighs and drops his head forward, leaning it against the door.

He might as well let everything else out.

“I think the thing I regret the most about this whole mess is not being able to remember that night. Phichit tells me we had his whole amazing evening together but I have no idea what we did or where we went or how you came to conclusion that I was someone worth talking to.” He rubs his sore eyes behind his glasses, old regrets about the night they met flicking to the forefront of his mind.  “The minute I saw you I knew you were so far out of my league I’d be crazy to even try.”

There’s still no response from behind the door. Stepping back a little, he sees the shadow has gone, taking any hope of reconciliation he might have had with it.

Yuuri lets out another beleaguered sigh, lifting his head so he can at least finish what he started for once. “Look, I’m sorry. And… if you want to talk, you know where I am.”

He stands staring at the door for another few seconds. He did feel a little lighter after letting it all out, but the lack of any real answer or acceptance of his apology still has guilt churning thickly in his gut.

At least Phichit’s sacrifice wasn’t completely wasted.

Turning around, he nearly walks straight into the person behind him. Stumbling to avoid the collision, he presses a hand against the wall to steady himself, quickly whipping his head up to apologise. “Oh I’m so-so…”

He feels his stomach drop to the floor at the sight of the silver haired man standing barely a foot away from him, a brown paper bag clutched in both hands.

“Victor!?” He doesn’t mean to expel his name quite as loudly as he does and instantly covers his mouth with one of his hands, thoughts bouncing erratically in his mind.  

_Of course. Of course something like this was going to happen. Because nothing this month could just be simple could it?_

As Yuuri lowers his hand, Victor smiles a little and shifts his bag of groceries to one hand so he can slowly wave with the other. “Hi.”

Yuuri instinctively straightens himself and wishes there wasn’t a wall behind him so he could back away without it looking super awkward. “Did you- hear any of that?”

Victor chuckles a little as he digs around in his jacket pocket, his voice tinted with amusement. “All of it I’m afraid.”

Yuuri blinks in confusion before turning back around to stare at his front door. “Wait… then who was I talking to?”

“Probably my dog, though I’m sure she appreciates the sentiment.” The brightness doesn’t leave his expression.

Yuuri can feel his face quickly shooting through several shades of red as the idiocy of what has just happened slowly dawns on him. “ _Oh my God_.”

“So how exactly do you know where I live?” Victor cocks his head, raising a perfectly shaped silver eyebrow.

“Y-Yuri,” he mumbles, wondering anyone else in history had ever felt so many different forms of embarrassment in such a short amount of time.

“Huh, I’m surprised he was so helpful,” the other man murmurs pulling his keys out and walking past him to open his door.

He diverts his gaze to the floor, part of him glad that the other man wasn’t visibly upset or verbally abusing him for being such an ass, but the other part growing increasingly scared as to why. “Do you- do you want me to go?” He eventually mumbles, wanting to stare at the dirty carpet but the last remnants of his courage letting him actually look the other man in the eye.

Victor pushes the door open, but pauses for a minute as if considering his answer. “Hmmm… no.” He turns his head, his smile coy. “I think there’s a few things we need to clear up, don’t you?”

With that, he strides inside, leaving Yuuri standing confused and sweaty in the hallway, wondering if the last five minutes actually just happened.

As Yuuri tries to ground himself in reality, Victor sticks his head back through the doorway, smirking at Yuuri’s dumbfounded expression. “Well, are you coming in?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally here folks! Sorry it only took sixteen chapters :P 
> 
> As we approach the end of the story I really am in two minds. Part of me is happy that I'm actually going to finish a chaptered fic for once buuuut the other part of me is a bit sad that it's coming to an end as I do love writing these short little chapters.
> 
> I already have another project planned but I'm not sure exactly how to format it... So I'm going to put it to you.
> 
> Would you guys prefer how I'm doing it now, short frequently uploaded chapters that I post on tumblr as well? Or would you prefer the more traditional format of longer chapters done every couple of weeks?
> 
> Anyways, as always thanks for reading!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I used to update every day? Me neither :P

Of all thing things Victor expected to do this morning, watching an extremely nervous-looking Yuuri sip tea in his breakfast nook wasn’t one of them. Not that seeing him again wasn’t on his list of priorities recently, but with everything he now knew, he hadn’t exactly been sure of the best way to approach him.

That’s mainly what today had been set aside for thinking about.

He turns back towards the kettle, briefly distracting himself by pouring his own cup. As the steam breathes over him, he tries to think of the best way to start this. All the bravado from the door seems to have slipped away after he sat Yuuri down, the weight of their next conversation hanging like a guillotine over his head.

After Chris had explained everything, he wasn’t really sure exactly how to feel. The whole situation certainly made a lot more sense now and he couldn’t exactly be mad at Yuuri for not seeking him out if he had no idea that they’d ever actually talked, but it was what his gestures must have looked like that set cold panic coursing through his body. Sure, he thought all the bouquets were a great idea, but to Yuuri it must have seemed that some random stranger had suddenly become kind of obsessed with him... and then vandalised the front of his shop.

He could practically hear the  _‘I told you so’_  poised on the tip of Chris’ tongue when he murmured about how he should have labelled his flowers properly, the smug glint in his eye unmistakable.

He’d spent most of yesterday evening staring at the carefully cut stems of his blue roses and sorting through the confusing mush of emotions pulsing through his head.

Was he happy that Yuuri wasn’t actually angry at him?

Frustrated at himself that it took a whole month for both of them to figure everything out?

Worried about what Yuuri actually thinks of him whilst sober?

The sharp sound of his dropped teaspoon clattering in the sink brings him back to the moment, suddenly realising he’s been stirring his tea for about two minutes with his back turned to his guest.

_Okay right now he just feels like the biggest fool on the planet._

“Do you want sugar?” He says as brightly as he can as he sits down opposite Yuuri, gesturing to the small bowl between them. He knows it’s a stupid way to break the silence but they have to start a talking somehow.

 “No I’m fine,” he murmurs, tentatively tracing the rim of his tea cup. His eyes switch from focussing intently at the teaspoon beside his saucer to flicking around the room, anywhere but Victor’s face.

_Not a great start._

He knows Yuuri has every reason to feel embarrassed right now, but he can’t help the little twinge of sadness tugging in his brain at the fact that the other man can’t even _look_ at him right now.

Victor isn’t a man that usually finds himself tongue-tied or nervous at all really, but right now finding the right words is proving a more difficult task than convincing Yurio to run the store by himself today.

It doesn’t help that the tension between them is so thick in the air, Victor can practically taste the joint embarrassment radiating from both of them.

He takes a long sip of his tea before purposefully setting the cup down, the soft scrape pulling Yuuri’s focus back to him.

_Okay Nikiforov. Don’t screw this up._

“So, from what I’ve heard we have very different recollections of that night.” He tries to keep his expression soft despite the thousand burning questions screaming at the back of his throat.

“Well… you actually _have_ a recollection of that night,” he murmurs, the corner of his lips pulling up into a small, embarrassed smile.

Victor can’t help but chuckle at that. “So you really don’t remember anything?”

“After ruining your shirt, not really.” He watches Yuuri’s ears warm to the softest shade of pink as he speaks, no doubt cringing at the memory.

“That does explain a lot.”

“Doesn’t really excuse me though.” Yuuri looks down, avoiding his gaze again and taking another long sip of his tea before he continues, voice small. “What I said to you the other day.”

Victor sighs and pushes his tea cup away, leaning across the table slightly. If there was one thing he needs to make clear it’s definitely what he’s about to say. “Yuuri, you have to know that I accept your apology, whole-heartedly.” He waits until Yuuri meets his eyes again before he continues, lowering his voice a little. “But, why do I feel like you’re insisting that this entire situation is your fault?”

Yuuri visibly shrinks a little in his seat as he bites his lip. “I mean… I guess it isn’t _completely_ , but I just can’t stop thinking about how that must have come across.”

Victor keeps his smile warm. “I know you didn’t mean it. Not maliciously anyway.”

“Still…”

“I could have actually left a note with the deliveries, you know.” He cuts him off, doing his best to defuse the lingering awkwardness floating around the other man. “It probably would have been helpful.”

Yuuri cocks his head, eyes suddenly a little brighter with curiosity. “Yeah, I was wondering why you didn’t.”

“I thought it was obvious. Nowhere else in the city sells these kinds of roses.” Victor gestures to the few beginning to bloom in the vase between them. “You seemed so interested in them that night I thought you’d recognise them instantly.”

“They are pretty unique,” Yuuri comments quietly, reaching out to gently run his fingers across a few of the waxy petals. The same wonder from the bar sparks subtly in his expression as he studies them.

Victor feels a familiar warmth starting to pulse softly in his stomach.

“I was also told multiple times to just go and say hello,” he murmurs as he continues to watch Yuuri’s sweet fascination. “If I’d done that, we probably could have had this conversation a little sooner.”

He flicks his eyes back to Victor, abruptly pulling his hand back. “Why didn’t you?”

Victor feels his own embarrassment slipping to the front of his mind, his ears probably matching Yuuri’s as he speaks. “I guess after the first few deliveries I just didn’t really want to hear a rejection in person. I could keep living in my little fantasy.”

Yuuri chokes on his tea.

Victor resists the urge to go and pat him on the back as the other man supresses a few rough coughs, instead passing him a couple of napkins from the centre of the table.

“I’m sorry… you- you thought I’d actually reject you?” When Yuuri pulls the paper away from his mouth, he’s surprised by the grin plastered on his face, the coughs morphing into broken laughs.

Victor shakes his head. “So hard to believe?”

“Honestly? Yes.”

He shrugs and swallows the last of the tea in his cup. “It’s the truth.”

“Trust me. There’s no way in hell I would have said no.”

The statement hangs in the air for a few seconds. The amusement previously painting Yuuri’s face drops faster than Victor’s spoon in the sink, his eyes wide with sudden embarrassment. “I mean… I… probably wouldn’t have...”

Victor wants to feel bad for him, but frankly his flustered expression is adorable.

 “Good to know,” he smirks as he leans forward a little further.

Yuuri quickly rubs the back of his neck before sighing and suddenly straightening himself, the softness in his eyes disappearing a little. “Look Victor, if we’re being completely honest with eachother now, then I have to tell you that I’m really not the person you met that night.” He lets out another long breath, the next words small and deflated. “Sober I’m really not even half as interesting.”

Victor’s heart breaks a little at the defeated expression on the other man’s face, marvelling at how someone who brought such fiery warmth to a room had such a miniscule opinion of themselves.

_Well he’s not going to let that stand._

“I don’t believe that for a minute.” He speaks firmly, each word clear.

Yuuri’s sad smile returns as he starts nervously rubbing the edge of his cup again. “It’s true. And I doubt you’d want to be around someone who has to be wasted all the time to be interesting.”

Victor doesn’t fight his instincts this time.

He purposefully makes his way around the side of the table and sits down next to him, resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he speaks gently and clear.

“Sooo you don’t like to dance?”

Yuuri’s blinks a few times, perhaps caught off guard by the question. “No, I do.”

Victor shifts the tiniest bit closer. “You don’t actually like poodles?”

“Well of course I do.” He briefly illuminated his phone between them, his smile warming a little at the sight.

“And sober you wouldn’t have told me to call my cousin Yurio to avoid confusion?” He moves until their knees are almost touching, still keeping his voice as relaxed as he can.

Yuuri bites his lip again and sighs. “…I probably would have.”

Victor chuckles and lifts his head from his hand. “Yuuri, the only difference I’m really seeing now is that you’re able to string coherent sentences together. Well that and I’m hoping there’s a much smaller chance that you’ll end up vomiting next to the building.”

“Oh so that did happen,” he murmurs, his cheeks burning a pale red at the memory.

“I’m afraid so.”

“And you still wanted to see me again after that?”

Victor looks him right in the eye, the next words the most honest he’s given all morning. “I think I’d made up my mind about ten minutes into our conversation that night.”

He sees a flash of something warm flit across Yuuri’s expression before his brief smile fades again. “You still don’t really know me.”

“No, I guess not.” He shifts again, accurately aware the soft sentiment of his next words are painted plain as day on his face. “But I’d like to.” He pushes his luck and finishes with a wink, hoping to whatever God that was listening that they’d figured this out.

The second that passes feels like the longest of Victor’s life as Yuuri processes his words, briefly looking down at his cup again.

_Please._

When he looks back up, Victor’s stomach leaps a little at the pretty smile painting his lips, a whisper of the sloppy joy he’d seen a month ago dancing in the brightness of his expression. “I’d like that too.”

“Perfect!” Victor claps his hands together as some of the happiness of that night crashes back through him, Yuuri flinching back a little as the loudness of his proclamation ricochets around the walls. “It’s a date!”

”Yes it is.” Yuuri smiles, the flush around his ears deepening a duskier rose.

It’s beautiful.

Victor tries not to let the excitement of how he finally has a chance to relive the fun of that evening again spill too agreesively out his mouth. He leans in to start gushing about potential date ideas before one thought stops him briefly.

_There’s one mistake he definitely isn’t making again._

Pulling a pen out of his shirt pocket, he quickly scribbles his number down and hands it to the other man, aware his grin is probably comically huge by this point. “I might have sent you well over a hundred roses, but I _know_ you don’t have this.”

Yuuri laughs as he taps it into his phone before turning back, a sudden determination hardened onto his expression. “Victor, can you promise me something?”

“Anything.” _Right now he’d pull the moon and the stars from the sky for this man if he asked._

”Next time I see you, please don’t let me drink anything.” He reaches over to cover one of Victor’s hands with his own, the soft swirl of his eyes burning warm and sweet. “I want to remember it all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You want dates? I’m giving you dates ;)


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back!
> 
> (It's me)

A date.

He’s going on a date with Victor.

After everything they’d gone through the past month: the hundreds of roses, the drunken escapes, the miscommunication and subsequent heartache- they’d finally made it to this point. An actual honest to God normal date.

And Yuuri is _terrified_.

Sitting in the bar of the restaurant that Victor had picked out, he tries not to stare at the nervous wreck of his reflection in his water as he waits. Or acknowledge how every passing second feels like a full minute.

Logically he knows he shouldn’t be nervous. _Knows_ that after everything Victor isn’t going to pull out at the last minute or suddenly decide he doesn’t want to see him. After clearing up all the confusion between them, their conversation had morphed into a wonderfully relaxed chat about everything and nothing, Yuuri wishing he could sip tea and play with Victor’s dog in his apartment forever. It was in the days that followed that he could feel familiar anxieties starting to creep into the back of his mind, that somehow, _someway_ , he’s still going to screw this up.

Yuuri shakes his head a little to try and banish the thought and reaches down to loosen his tie, the stiff collar of his shirt suddenly feeling like it was choking him a little.

_Okay maybe the current atmosphere isn’t exactly helping him keep calm either._

After he’d googled the restaurant that Victor had text him this morning, a new panic had started to flare hot and sickly through his body. Even from a picture he could tell it was fancy. Really fancy. The kind of fancy that would make him cross over to the other side of the street if he’d been walking past in his work uniform to avoid being judged by immaculately dressed doorman. Even though he’s currently sporting in his nicest outfit, he knows he doesn’t quite fit into this kind of scene, especially with everyone else currently milling around him dressed to the nines and looking like they each have two yachts and three surnames. He wouldn’t exactly be surprised if the cufflinks the barman has on are worth more than his car.

He sighs and keeps his eyes focussed rigidly on the glass of water in front of him, trying to avoid the sharp scrutiny of anyone walking past him. He knows he’s probably just being paranoid, but he can practically hear the condescending tuts poised on the tip of their tongues as he spills a little of his drink when he lifts it up with shaky hands.

As he awkwardly wipes the droplets with a napkin, the urge to cave in and order a stiffer drink blares loudly in his mind.

Letting out a slow breath he takes another long sip and repeats the mantra he’s been trying to push through his head all day.

_You know he likes you. You know he likes you. He literally said that he likes you._

He feels his hands starting to steady a little.

_It’s not like you have a history of catastrophically screwing things up._

Okay he now he _needs_ a proper drink.

Just as he raises his hand to signal the bartender, he feels the warm press of a hand on his shoulder and a warmer voice in his ear.

“ _Waiting for someone?”_

He immediately swivels round, trying to hide the shivers from the rumble of that familiar voice that are currently shaking down his spine. He had an opening line prepared but despite all the water he’s been drinking, he feels it drying up in his mouth at the sight of Victor in front of him.

It had been a full month since he’d seen him in anything other in casual wear or his work uniform and with all his other worries, he hadn’t even thought to prepare himself for just how _nicely_ he cleans up. His suit is crisp, his eyes softer than a summer sky and Yuuri is fairly certain the curve of the dangerous smirk currently painted on his mouth is going to kill him by the end of the night.

“I’m glad you made it.” Victor murmurs as he leans on the bar next to him, immediately lifting Yuuri’s hand to gently brush his lips across the knuckles. “Sorry I’m late.”

“I-it’s fine.” Yuuri tries to find his voice as the brief touch of the other man’s lips spreads quickly and hot through every part of his body. “You look great.”

“Thank you. So do you.” He sweeps his eyes up and down Yuuri’s perched form, the heat under his collar flaring intensely as Victor reaches over to tuck a wayward strand of hair back into its carefully styled hold. “I like your hair like this.”

“Oh, uh thanks.” _It only took three attempts and two showers to get it to stay._

“You like the restaurant I chose?”

“Yeah of course. It’s very-” _out of my price range_ “-classy.”

Victor sits on the adjacent bar stool, briefly flicking his eyes across the sparkling interior of the bar.  “I haven’t been before but all the reviews say it’s the best place in town.”

“I’m sure.”

“Have you been waiting long?” he asks, gently resting his chin in his hand as he focusses his gaze back to Yuuri. “I don’t know what I’d do if someone else had managed to snatch you up before I got here.”

Yuuri feels each velvety word like a physical caress against his ear, the redness blooming on his cheeks probably deep enough to match the wine being poured behind him. “I-I don’t think you have to worry about that,” he murmurs, chuckling nervously as he desperately searches his brain for any kind of flirting tactic he might have picked up over the years.

Or just how to speak coherently in general.

Victor briefly casts his eyes down, the hint of a blush starting to colour his cheekbones as his voice quietens. “After everything that’s happened I’m just glad we’re both actually _here_.”

Yuuri feels himself relaxing a little at the small confession, the thought that he isn’t the only one who’s a little nervous quelling some of the anxiety that had been dancing in his stomach for days at this point. Gently resting one of his hands over Victor’s, he shifts a little closer until he can smell the sweet perfume wafting from his jacket, his voice just as soft.  “Me too. I’m glad we’re finally doing this.”

Victor’s smile widens at the words, gently turning his hand over so he can link their fingers together properly. Yuuri feels a soft pulse warming his heart at the action, glad for the small intimacy of the moment as most of the nerves from minutes past cool down until there’s nothing left but him and Victor in this moment.

After their brief encounter a month ago, he’d only seen him as part of an embarrassing anecdote he’d rather forget, or someone so out of his league it was ridiculous to even fantasize, not something tangible he could really have in his life. Right now, actually getting to know him as a person is something he know he wants more than anything.

“Have you had a chance to look at the menu?”

He’s snapped out of his soft daze by Victor’s words, suddenly remembering exactly where they were. “Ah, no not yet.”

“Oh well our reservation isn’t for another ten minutes.” He takes his phone out of his pocket and presses it into Yuuri’s hand, the restaurant’s menu loaded onto the screen. “What do you think?”

One glance at the appetisers and he can feel every bank statement form the last three months flashing before his eyes. Nothing that couldn’t feed him for a month should ever cost that much.

“Yuuri?”

The shock must have telegraphed pretty clearly on his face judging by the edges of concern now colouring Victor’s expression, his eyes a little wider.

_No. He isn’t going to ruin this._

“It all looks good,” he mumbles quickly, pushing the phone back into Victor’s hands and confident in the knowledge he’s ordering the cheapest thing and no dessert.

“Are you sure?”

“Yep.” He stands and starts heading towards the restaurant, trying to end the conversation as fast as he can.  “Come on, let’s see if our table’s ready.”

He’s stopped by Victor’s hand on his elbow.

He wants to keep walking but defeatedly lets himself be pulled back, trying not to let the panic seep to obviously onto his face as he’s awkwardly directed back to his seat.

“You’re uncomfortable aren’t you.” Victor’s voice is flat, the grin previously warming his expression gone.

A familiar guilt stabs sharply in Yuuri’s gut at the sight.

“What? No, I’m fine. Really.” He plasters the smile back on his face, desperately trying to get their date back on track. “I just don’t think I’ve ever been somewhere so fancy before.”

“Yuuri.” Victor folds his arms, an eyebrow raised. “Do you really like it here?”

He can feel the heat from his face radiating clear as day at the words, the pain of his teeth sinking into his bottom lip the only thing grounding him from falling into a full-on panic. “You chose it, of course I- I mean I-” He takes a breath. He can feel himself falling down a familiar fumbling rabbit hole as he tries to find his words.

_He knew he’d find a way to screw this up. It had been, what? Ten minutes and things were already starting to crumble._

“Yuuri? Hey.” Victor softly touches his arm. The concern is back but his voice is the gentlest it’s been all evening. “It’s Okay. Please just tell me what you’re thinking.” There’s no hint of annoyance or anger in his tone, just the genuine warmth he’d come to know so well the last time they were together.

He feels the heat of his panic start to dissipate slightly. Sighing, he slowly meets Victor’s eyes. Miscommunication had caused them enough problems and he’s done not being direct. “I just don’t think I can really afford this place.” He looks back down to his drink as the words leave his mouth, his reply barely audible above the general chatter around them.

The words hang between them for a minute.

Victor lets out his own breath and shifts his stool a little closer to Yuuri’s, his tone still gentle. “You know that’s fine, right? I can treat you if you like.”

“Oh wow.” Thought of Victor paying for everything was so very appealing to part of his mind, but there was a much louder voice screaming to him about how he’d already thrown so much money away on him with all those flowers. There’s no way that would be fair. “That’s so kind of you, but I really don’t think I could accept you paying for everything.”

Victor nods and slumps back against the bar, a small defeated smile on his face. “I’m sorry. I just- wanted to put my best foot forward.”

Yuuri laughs a little as he leans back to join him, keeping his tone light. “You already did that. I think it’s my turn to treat you for a change and I don’t have nearly enough for this sort of place right now.”

“We’re bad at this,” Victor chuckles as he reaches over and takes a sip of Yuuri’s water.

“Yeah- we kinda are.”

Victor presses his finger to his bottom lip, his eyes drifting slightly before he abruptly sits up, his previous grin back in full force. “Okay, let’s go somewhere else.”

“Your reservation-”

“Didn’t cost a thing. Come on let’s do something else.” He jumps up from the barstool, the brightness of his smile not faltering as he holds out his hand for Yuuri. “The night’s still young. Why don’t you pick something to do?”

He’s taken aback by the sudden pressure and stares down at his lap for a second to avoid the expectant curiosity now alight in Victor’s expression. He had actually been thinking of a few things they could do ever since they talked, but every one of his ideas never felt quite right.

_Well except for-_

“Okay I’ve got it.” His smile matches Victor’s as he takes his hand and marches them into the cool night air, a firm destination in mind. As they wait to cross the street, he turns towards the other man squeezing his hand again as he meets his inquisitive expression.

“Tell me Victor. When was the last time you went ice skating?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the hiatus.   
> With work and a bunch of other projects piling up, finding time to actually write has been struggle. Luckily, it seems my schedule is looking a lot clearer over the next few days so look forward to more frequent updates! (Hopefully)
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and commenting!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I had an excuse for the long hiatus. Frankly if you’re still here then I think I might love you! :P

“So is this a good time to ask why exactly you have keys to your own skating rink?”

Yuuri chuckles as he finishes lacing up the rented skates on Victor’s feet. He had been wondering when exactly he was going to ask if they were breaking into the local sports centre or not. “Well it isn’t _my_ rink.”

Victor’s eye roll is still clearly visible even in the dimmed light. “You know what I mean.”

“My friend owns it,” he explains as he pushes Victor’s bent leg back towards the seat he’s perched in, before standing to lean against the rink’s barrier. “I like to skate when there’s something on my mind, it helps me work things through. Eventually she got tired of me calling in the middle of the night to use the ice so just gave me her spare keys.”

Victor quirks an eyebrow. “Plus it just happens to look impressive for any potential dates?”

Yuuri lets out another small laugh as he turns and steps out onto the ice, the scrape of the blades a sweet echo in the silence. “Ah, so this is still only a potential date then?”

Victor shakes his head as he stands, wobbling slightly as he carefully moves towards him. “Hey, don’t even joke about that.”

Yuuri’s smile widens as he pushes away from the barriers, circling around the edge of the ice before stopping in the centre. He’d deliberately not turned on the main lights to avoid attracting too much attention, but the soft glow of the small lamps around the sides are still enough that he can see the surprised look on Victor’s face at his relative gracefulness.

He can’t help the little punch of satisfaction in his stomach at that. Dinner would have been nice, but _this_ , this is Yuuri’s turf now. He knows he isn’t any kind of amazing athlete, but skating was something that kept him calm, the feel of the ice under his feet often enough to cool a number of stupid panics before they could burn into full meltdowns.

He turns in place, casually resting his hands on his hips as he regards the other man still clinging to the edge. “Well? Will you join me?”

_Plus it helps to know he isn’t going to look like a complete fool while he’s here._

Victor visibly takes a breath before shuffling away from the side, his arms stretched out in front of him as he slowly moves towards Yuuri. “I – ah- haven’t skated since I was a kid.”

Yuuri holds out his hand as he waits, smiling at his sweet clumsiness. “It doesn’t take long to get the hang of it, you can do it!”

Victor continues to slowly inch his way forward, his head cast to the ground as he goes, watching his feet slip across the ice.

Yuuri stifles another laugh. It’s strange watching a man who looks like he should be the embodiment of grace wobbling like a baby deer that had been strapped into a pair of skates that are too big. Yuuri watches him adorably struggle for a few more seconds before skating over and lightly grabbing hold of his forearms.

“Here. Let me help,” he murmurs as he starts skating backwards, slowly pulling Victor along with him.

He feels Victor twist his hands so he can grab hold of Yuuri’s own arms, the shakiness in his legs slowly evening out as he raises his head, expression soft.

“Thank you.”

Yuuri can feel his pulse beating a little louder in his ears at the proximity. He tries to keep his breathing steady, somewhat of a hard task when all he can concentrate on is the dappled blue of Victor’s eyes, currently catching the gentle glow of the light around them more beautifully than the ice they were moving on. He feels most of the air leave him in a soft whoosh as Victor lightly squeezes on his arms, heat flaring under his skin with each gentle press of his fingers.

He pulls Victor along the length of the rink, the other man eventually loosening his grip so he can pull back and take his hands properly. Yuuri is thankful to whichever God is on his side that he found more than one pair of gloves stuffed behind the rentals desk as he can feel how sweaty his own palms are even through the thick wool.

As they approach the opposite barrier, Yuuri briefly lets go to switch their positions. With a courage he’s mostly faking, he manoeuvres himself behind Victor to hold him closer. Gently resting one hand on his waist, he reaches down to lift Victor’s opposite hand, pulling his back against the front of his own body so he can push them along with a little more force.

He knows what this looks like. Knows it’s probably way too much touching for a man he barley knows, yet something about the long blue shadows slowly settling over them is bolstering his confidence, the taste of a memory he can’t quite place flickering at the back of his mind as he holds him.

_Like he’s held him like this before._

“Is this okay?” he whispers over Victor’s shoulder as he slowly moves them across the ice, his grip firm on his hip.

Victor turns his head, the heat in Yuuri’s ears flashing white hot at how close the soft curve of his cupid’s bow is to his own lips. “ _Oh definitely._ ”

He lets Yuuri direct them for a few more minutes, eventually fully relaxing his body against Yuuri’s as they turn a few lazy loops around the rink.

Yuuri wonders if there’s some way he can stay in this chilled little pocket of time forever, gently pressing himself against Victor and slowly skating with him round and round and round, the scratch of their blades the only break in the comfortable silence. Every bad thought is a million miles away, nothing on his mind except the warmth of Victor’s body moulded against his own, the soft heat a sweet presence even through the layers of jackets and shirts.

As he goes to turn them again, he suddenly notices the dull ache starting to radiate from his calves, the force of pushing them both around the ice with no break suddenly catching up to him. He sighs and slows them down, cursing the limitations of his own body.

As they stop by the far edge of the rink, Victor’s voice quietly cuts through the air. “I had no idea you could skate.”

Yuuri puffs out a small laugh as he untangles them, both then resting against the barriers to catch their breath. “Well there’s probably a lot you don’t know about me.”

Victor brings a finger to his lips as he rests against the edge, eyes bright in the gloom. “Hmmm, more than you might think.” The shock Yuuri feels at that statement must have radiated pretty clearly from his face as Victor quickly straightens himself, holding up his hands. “Oh, I haven’t stalked you. You just get rather talkative when you’ve been drinking.”

Yuuri bites his lip as he feels an old embrassment trickle through his mind.

_It’s not the first time he’s been told that._

“What did I tell you?”

“You have a poodle as well, your family runs an onsen back in Japan, you can definitely fit three shot glasses in your mouth…” Victor slowly extends a finger with each point on his list, an edge of mischievousness to his grin. “Oh and you haven’t had any enjoyable sex in three years.”

Yuuri shoots bolt upright from where he was leaning against the barrier. “What!”

Victor chuckles, his eyes shining softly in the dimmed light. “Just kidding with that last one.”

Yuuri hides his small grin as he pushes away from the edge, quickly making his way back to the centre of the rink.

_This man was going to be the death of him._

“Oh come on Yuuri!” Victor stretches out his hand, not letting go of the barrier as he softly pouts at Yuuri’s quick escape.

He fights the laugh bubbling behind his lips at the way his accent softly curls around the syllables of his name, his exaggeratated whine almost cute. He turns again and slowly continues to skate away, deliberately shaking his hips as he goes. “After a comment like that, I think you’re going to have to catch me!”

He waits for a second, wondering if Victor is game before he hears the uneven scratch of shaky skates behind him, Victor’s voice richocheting around the room. “Oh I plan to!”

Yuuri doesn’t fight his laugh this time as he spins and teasingly skates backwards away from him, an eyebrow raised in challenge. While Victor had all the grace of a geriatric elephant on the ice, he’s covering a surprising amount of ground with his small movements.

Yuuri shakes his head again and turns, picking up the speed. “You’re going to have to do better than that old man!”

He flicks his head over his shoulder as he changes direction, Victor clutching his hand over his heart in mock offence. “Yuuri! You wound me!”

He sticks is tongue out as he turns again, deliberately skating up close before looping around him and pushing off backwards before the other man can grab him. He hears both their breathy laughs reverberating around the quiet room as they give chase, Yuuri idly wondering when the last time was that he had this much fun with anyone.

He also can’t help the amusement at Victor’s feeble attempts to catch him, his voice strained as he continues to clumsily skate after him.

“H-hey… we don’t.. all have… your stamin.. Ah!”

Yuuri quickly spins in place at the yelp, catching the dark shape of Victor sprawled over the ice. Before a hot panic can flash through his mind, Victor slowly starts to push himself up, shaking the dampness of his chilled landing from his palms as he goes.

Yuuri is at his side in an instant, crouching down to gently grip his hand. “Are you okay?”

Victor tilts his head up, eyes as soft as his smile as he pulls Yuuri down towards him, his words warm and sweet as they brush across his face. “ _Caught you_.”

Yuuri feels his heart jump higher than any axel at the proximity, at how even in the shadows he can see the individual sweep of each silver eyelash as he steadily holds Yuuri’s gaze.

His mind races as he stares, the heat steadily rising in his hands.

It would be so easy. To lean in, to trace the shape of those pink lips with his own, slip his hands beneath his open jacket and chase the chill of the ice from Victor’s body with the firm press of his own wandering fingers.

Victor keeps his expression lidded and soft as if he’s waiting for Yuuri to make a move, the grip of his hand hot and sure in his own. Yuuri can hear own own thoughts screaming at him to take advantage.

He waits a fraction of a second too long.

Victor sighs and stands from his crouched position against the ice, pulling Yuuri up with him.

Yuuri mentally chastises himself at his own cowardice as Victor steers them back towards the edge of the ice, his hand still firmly curved around his own, voice cheery.

“You said you skate a lot right? Do you have any…moves?”

“Moves?”

“You know… jumps?”

“Ah… well..” Yuuri thinks back to the last time he tried any actual jumps. Probably well over six months ago at this point.

_Still, if Victor’s asking…_

He makes his way to the far edge of the rink, before pushing himself across the ice and throwing himself in the air with all the calculated precision he can. He manages to pull off one singular toe loop before landing on slightly shaky legs, his ankles screaming for a few seconds from his lack of warming up.

“Amazing!!” Victor is at his side almost immediately, clapping his hands together in an almost childish glee. “Wow! Yuuri that was incredible!”

Yuuri smiles, rubbing the back of his head. “Not really.”

“It definitely was!” Shaking his head again he puffs out another soft chuckle. “Wow, every time I think I have you figured out, you just keep on surprising me.”

Yuuri feels his whole world go rosy at that. He rides his bite of confidence to reach out and take both Victor’s hands again. “Is that a bad thing?”

Victor’s expression melts into something gentler as his links their fingers together more securely, the darkness shrouding them doing nothing to mask the rosy blush starting to dust Yuuri’s nose at the contact.

“Not at all.”

* * *

 

“You really didn’t have to walk me home.”

The hallway outside Yuuri’s front door is darker than the rink, but he can still see the flash of those blue eyes in the shadows, his gaze as gentle as the moonlight as he speaks. “What kind of a gentleman would I be if I didn’t?”

He wonders if Victor could feel the heat of his blush from where he’s standing. After skating for another hour, there had barely been a minute where his hand hadn’t been firmly planted in his own: when they walked under the warmth of the summer stars, when they stopped for food, even when Yuuri was fumbling to get his keys out of his back pocket.

_Though the fumbling was more to do with their current situation._

He holds Victor’s gaze as steadily as he can, trying to ignore the frantic drum of his heart as the other man casually leans against the doorway, barely an inch of space between them.

“I-uh- I had a really nice time tonight,” Yuuri murmurs, desperately trying to find the words to properly convey what he wants. What he _really_ wants. “I’m glad we finally got to do this… after everything.”

“Let’s not think about that,” Victor whispers, very obviously dropping his gaze to the curve of Yuuri’s mouth before taking another small step towards him. “We’re here now.”

“Yeah.” Yuuri feels the heat between softly pulse as Victor starts closing the final breath of space between them, “We are.”

Just as he feels the tickle of Victor’s breath against his lips, a white hot thought pierces through the front of his mind, causing him to jump a few steps away. “Oh wait! There’s actually something I meant to show you!” He finally jams his key into the door and pushes it open, grabbing Victor and pulling him inside. “I left it in here.”

He hears Victor’s chuckle behind him as he quickly moves them into the kitchen. “Inviting me in already? My my Yuuri.”

Biting back his own laugh at the comment, he spots what he forgot resting in an old tin by the oven. Reaching inside, he takes a second to admire his handiwork on the cupcakes nestled inside. He knows he isn’t any kind of baker but he had spent at least an hour trying his best to craft the blue roses out of fondant, a whole bouquet of them now sitting on soft beds of golden buttercream.

“Here,” he murmurs as he gently presses one into Victor’s hands. “I know it’s not nearly enough to make up for all that effort you put in just to impress me but… I just wanted to… I mean…” He trails off as he watches Victor slowly turn the cake in his hand, the fondness in his eyes making his heart flip in his chest.

Victor slowly lifts his eyes to meet Yuuri’s, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he leans in to whisper his response.

“ _It’s perfect_.”

Nothing stops the movement between them this time, Yuuri gladly letting Victor softly brush the thumb of his free hand against his bottom lip before replacing it with the sweetness of his mouth.

It’s a brief first kiss. Chaste. Just enough for Yuuri to get a small taste of Victor’s lips before he’s pulling away, expression hooded. The blue of his eyes are almost entirely eclipsed by black, the spark of something deeper briefly flashing in them as he slowly brushes his fingers against the edge of Yuuri’s jaw.

“Okay. Now it’s perfect.”

Watching Victor place the cake down on the side, he takes a breath, one very loud thought burning at the front of his mind as Victor meets his eyes again.

_He’s done wasting time._

Grabbing Victor by the lapels of his jacket, he drags his mouth back to his own, finally kissing him the way he’d wanted to back on the ice. For a minute it’s a messy fumble of lips and teeth and hands, both of them blindly fumbling their ways out of the dark kitchen until Yuuri feels the back of the couch against his knees. Taking the opportunity, he sits down and pulls Victor onto his lap, tracing one hand down the sweet curve of his spine, the other stroking through the shorter hairs at the back of his neck.

Through the fuzzy haze of want, he feels Victor’s small moan against his lips, the way his fingers press a little harder against his arms at his gentle ministrations. He smiles into the kiss as he scrapes his fingernails a little harder through Victor’s hair, something stronger than any coffee pooling in his gut when he’s rewarded with a series of heated gasps, his face dropping to the crook of Yuuri’s neck as he shifts in his lap.

After a few minutes of sweet gasps and warm caresses, he feel the soft, wet movement of Victor’s lips against his throat, his voice barely a breath. “ _Yuuri- Yuuri I want to-_ ”

“Stay.” He interrupts Victor’s staccatoed words with his own plea, for once his heart, his mind and his groin all screaming the same thing at him. “ _Please_.”

Victor pulls his head back, his expression briefly flashing with surprise before he’s desperately pressing his lips back to Yuuri’s, the firmness of his fingers slowly dancing their way under his shirt.

_“I was hoping you’d say that.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue to go!
> 
> From the bottom of my heart I just want to say thank you to everyone who stuck through and read all of this, especially those of you who comment on every chapter! Seriously it really makes my day :)))
> 
> Luckily the final part shouldn’t take as long as this did, so hang on for the ending these boys deserve.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is it folks! The final chapter!  
> Strap in and prepare for some fluff that I hope was worth 19 chapters of waiting!

It’s warm when Victor wakes.

As the honeyed light of early morning slips into his vision, it takes him a few seconds to realise that he isn’t in his own bedroom, and that the hair currently tickling the tip of his nose is way too soft to belong to Makkachin. Slowly blinking himself to reality, the thick wool of sleep stuffed in his mind is replaced with something much sweeter when he registers the figure currently curled around his body, so very pretty and naked.

_Yuuri._

He can’t help the warmth blooming in his heart as he takes his time observing the dozing man on his chest: the sweet pink of his lips, the soft curve of his spine, the inked mess of his hair currently sticking up in all directions like the bristles of an old comb. He feels a fresh wave of heat flash through him as Yuuri shifts across him, revealing a smattering of marks in the shape of Victor’s mouth dotted in an abstract pattern across his throat and shoulders. He chuckles quietly as he gently traces one with his finger, the memories of last night still fresh and firm in his mind.

He hadn’t really known what to expect in the bedroom from someone like Yuuri, but with the aches now pulsing in his muscles the word he’d choose would definitely be… amazing.

 _And_ _thorough_.

As the haze of happiness settles in his bones, he can already feel all the pain and annoyance of the last few weeks whispered away on the light softly filtering through Yuuri’s blinds. The perfection of the last few hours was enough that Yurio could call him, tell him the store had burned down… and he probably wouldn’t find it in him to care.

Not when waking up to something like this.

He feels something else in him slowly wake as Yuuri shifts again and throws a firm thigh across his body, his face nuzzling more intently against the slope of his shoulder.

Lightly stroking his thumb against the edge of Yuuri’s jaw and lowering his face to trace his lips against his face he idly wonders if Yuuri’s dreams are just as enjoyable as Victor’s had been after the he’d finally collapsed on top of him, all dishevelled and sweaty and gorgeous.

He chuckles again as Yuuri rolls more firmly on top of him as he continues his tender caresses, the whisper of a moan rumbling past his lips.

_Perhaps Victor could make his morning just as sweet._

Before he can get too deep into his fantasy, his body interrupts, arm suddenly numbing from laying so long in one position and his bladder aching for relief.

“ _Damn,”_ he murmurs as silently as he can as he carefully untangles himself from the other man, his heart melting a little when he rolls over into the warm spot left in his wake, the softest smile on his face.

* * *

 

After finishing his morning ablutions and running his fingers through his hair to press it back to some kind of style, he notices the coffee maker sitting on the counter next to his abandoned cupcake from last night.

After fishing round for some clean mugs and switching the machine on, he reclines against the counter and takes a bite of the forgotten treat. With it sitting out all night, he’s surprised by how moist the sponge still is, the buttercream soft and delicious as it melts against his tongue. He makes a mental note to ask Yuuri for the recipe, wondering if he was going to be nice enough to share them with his cousin.

He licks his fingers and looks down at the dozen still resting in the tin, calling out to him…

_Or if there were going to be any remaining by the time he left._

Wiping the crumbs from the corner of his mouth, he vaguely registers the soft click of a door closing, a pair of footsteps suddenly halting.

He smiles as he turns.

“Well good morning-” The words catch in his throat when he’s met by someone who definitely isn’t Yuuri standing motionless by the couch, eyebrows raised.

Looking down, he feels the strongest relief of his life wash through him at the counter between them, blocking any view lower than his stomach.

The other man blinks a few times before he responds, his voice surprisingly sunny. “Good morning to you too.”

Victor rubs the back of his head, wondering if there was an apron or something he could throw on before things got more awkward. “Sorry I didn’t realise there was anyone else in.”

The other man’s eyes quickly flick up and down his bare chest, his eyes widening a little. “Please tell me you’ve got pants on behind there.”

Victor waits a fraction too long to confidently respond. “Yes?”

He shakes his head, hiding his laugh behind his hand as he adjusts the rucksack on his shoulder. “Okay, well don’t come out until I’ve left for work.”

Through the ridiculousness of the situation, Victor feels a sense of déjà vu, the sparkle behind those dark eyes exceedingly familiar.

“Have we met before?”

The other man smiles as he pulls a cap from his bag and puts it on. “I believe we have.” He takes a step closer to the counter. “You going to want sugar in that coffee?”

It clicks into place.

“Wait. You’re that guy from the coffee shop the other week!”

He takes a bow, smirk still plastered on his face. “Indeed I am.”

“Phichit wasn’t it?” As the other man nods, he feels another realisation starting to slowly unfurl in the back of his mind. “Wait, so you’re Yuuri’s roommate?”

“Yup.”

“So… was he there that day?”

Phichit’s grin deepens a little, the sparkle in his eyes glittering a little more prominently. “He was.”

“Is that why you talked to me?”

Phichit rolls his eyes as he grabs a banana from the fruit bowl between them and starts to walk towards the door. “It’s a long story, and one you should definitely ask Yuuri about.”

Victor furrows his brow. “Okay then. But why did you-”

“Love to stay and chat, but I’ve got to get to work now!” He’s already half out the door, waving as he pokes his head back in and giving a familiar wink. “Tell Chris I’ll see him tonight!”

As the door softly shuts behind him, Victor feels just as confused as when they last met, his sleepy mind trying to put the puzzle pieces together as he turns to regard the mugs set out behind him.

_So he was there that day on purpose? Does that mean that Yuuri was trying to-_

He’s pulled out of his train of thought by the beep of the coffee maker, the smell of the rich roast quickly pushing those niggling thoughts away from the front of his mind.

He pours two mugs, briefly wondering if Yuuri takes his with milk or not before slowly making his way back across the living room.

_He has a sleeping beauty to wake up._

Walking back into the bedroom he’s met with the adorable sight of Yuuri curled like a kitten against the mattress, the sheets pulled right up under his chin as he continues to softly snore.

As he sets the coffee down on the bed side table, he has to fight the soft squeal in the back of his throat as he shuffles further across the bed, gravitating towards Victor’s warmth. He almost doesn’t want to disturb him, content just to watch him sleep until his body drags him into wakefulness.

But he doesn’t have that much self control.

He hooks his fingers into the sheets under Yuuri’s chin, slowly pulling them down as he leans over to murmur against his face. “ _Good morning_.”

“Mmmmpphmm.”

Victor isn’t sure if any real words left Yuuri’s mouth, his fists clamped like vices around the sheets as he buries his face further into the pillow.

“I said-” He wafts the steam of the coffee directly under Yuuri’s nose. “ _Good morning_.”

Two bleary eyes open.

Victor watches him slowly realise where he is and exactly what happened last night, the other man’s eyes sleepily tracing Victor’s naked form perched on the edge of the bed before he smiles a little wider.

He reaches over to take the warmed mug from his hands, the quietest thanks mumbling from his mouth. As he presses his lips to the edge of the cup, he moves over to the other side of the mattress, using his free hand to pull the sheets down in open invitation.

“Thank you,” Victor happily murmurs as sidles up next to him, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his temple.

Yuuri takes a long sip of his coffee before he responds. His mouth is warm as he twists his head to return the kiss, mumbling against his lips. “ _Did you sleep well?”_

“Mmmm very.”

Yuuri slowly runs his thumb against the handle of the cup, his voice adorably gruff with sleep as he pulls the sheets more comfortably over both of them. “I should have you over more often if this is how I get woken up.”

“Is that a promise?”

His cheeks flash with a softer blush, his tone a quiet tease. “Maybe.”

As he takes a second to better appreciate Yuuri’s profile in the softness of the early morning light, he suddenly remembers what he’d been thinking about beforehand.

“I met your roommate.”

Yuuri almost chokes on his coffee, lifting up the sheets as if to confirm what he already knew. “Like that?”

“I think I left quite the impression.”

Yuuri puts down his mug, trying and failing to cover his laugh with both of his hands, he eyes crinkling softly.

“I remember him from the coffee place opposite my shop.”

The laughter abruptly stops. “You do?”

“Yes.” He takes another slow, deliberate sip of his coffee, his expression level. “He tells me you were there as well that day.”

Victor watches his blush darken considerably, blooming right down to his chest as he fumbles with his response.

“Uh- well I-I, I really don’t-“

“So tell me,” he cuts him off, leaning in a little closer until he can almost taste the coffee warmed on his breath. “Was that just a coincidence?”

“I…”

Victor barely has time to think of another gentle tease before Yuuri is diving under the duvet, rolling away to curl in the centre of the mattress.

“Yuuri?” He tries to not make his laughs to obvious as he rolls over the cage the lump under the duvet beneath his body. “Come on Yuuri.”

 _“No.”_ The reply is muffled under the sea of sheets but that doesn’t stop Victor wrapping his arms around the softness of his body, sneaking a hand under the very edge of the blanket to start tickling his ribs.

A series of squeaks vibrate though the sheets as Yuuri tries and fails to escape the mercilessness of Victor’s fingers, desperately wiggling across the mattress as Victor keeps him firmly captured underneath his own body.

Eventually he pokes the tip of his face into the daylight, messy and gasping and pink. “You’re going to think I’m crazy if I tell you the whole thing.”

“Maybe.” He lowers himself to lightly kiss the tip of Yuuri’s nose, a new kind of fondness unfurling in his chest. “Only one way to find out.”

Yuuri scrunches his face against the soft peck as he slowly emerges from his blanket cocoon, skin hot and silky agaisnt Victor’s hands. “It’s a long story.”

“That’s alright,” he whispers, pressing quick feathered kisses against every piece of bare skin he can find, the stifled giggles from the other man possibly the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.

_“I’ve got all day.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand we’re done!
> 
> I want to say a huge thank you to everyone who’s been on this journey with me! I enjoyed putting out every update so I do hope you enjoyed this fluffy tale as well!
> 
> As for the future... we’ll first things first I’ve got a few WIPs that DESPERATELY need updating so that’s my first port of call.
> 
> As for after that? Well I guess you’ll have to wait and see ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me on [Tumblr](https://ravensmores.tumblr.com/) \- @ravensmores


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